Unexpected Fire
by LadyRimouski
Summary: Rachael Breton was proud of the important work she was doing in the post-Incident world. Then, what started out as a disaster turned into something beautiful, as fate threw her and Steve Rogers together.
1. Crisis

**_Author's Note:_**

 _This is the idea that just wouldn't let go until I got it in writing. It's not only my first fanfiction, it's also the only creative writing I've done for myself, and not for a school assignment. I have no idea what I'm doing, so any feedback at all is greatly appreciated._

 _This story is duplicated on AO3 under the same fic title and username (Unexpected Fire by LadyRimouski). The version on AO3 contains explicit scenes, which have been omitted here to comply with FFN's terms of use._

* * *

It started as a relatively routine day.

I had headed out to do an evaluation of an incident site. Having run my department at Damage Control for almost five years now, it was almost becoming habitual: do a site assessment, take samples and readings, and come up with an environmental remediation plan. I hadn't been expecting my life to turn out like this. During your studies, I had chosen eco-toxicology and exo-biology to specialise in, never expecting to find any practical work in my field. And then _The_ Incident had made my research urgently relevant. I'd found I possessed a previously undiscovered aptitude for triageing potential ecological crises, and that had made me indispensable at Damage Control. Now, I found yourself working regularly with the Avengers Organization, keeping an eye on invasive species (aliens in both senses of the word) and healing some ecological and human-health after-effects of whatever the universe had thrown at the Earth lately.

As I arrived on site with my team, I was joined by Anna Kabalevsky, an elderly Russian woman who served as the Avengers' personal physician, and was also an expert in enhanced physiology. We often worked together teasing out potential threats from the often unpredictable chemical soup left in the aftermath of a battle with some reckless villain.

Yesterday's havoc had unearthed an underground lab... some amateur's idea of a secret lair. They never got far before their own hubris caught them out. As the engineers finished stabilizing the wrecked facility, Anna and I made our way to the main lab, and began cataloguing the unknown chemicals arrayed in colourful jars on the shelves lining the walls around the lab benches. Some of them would be easy enough to deal with: containment and removal to a safe site for identification and disposal. Others made me a little more nervous. The lead-encased cryo-chamber, nested in two layers of biosecurity doors was going to be a problem. But it could wait. The inbuilt lab safeguards were holding, and the drones would not have cleared the facility if the damage to the facility put them at risk of failing spontaneously.

As I worked my way around the room, tagging various items with removal instructions for my team, I heard the tell-tale sound of repulsors that meant that Tony Stark was making a site visit, in his Iron Man suit. Besides bankrolling Damage Control, and contributing his mental genius towards particularly tricky engineering problems as they turned up, he also liked to put in an appearance on-site every now and then. He was happy enough to delegate most of the time, but the almost manic engineer liked to keep tabs on certain cleanups. I suspected to reassure himself that the Department was actually making a difference, and that he wasn't just throwing money at the problem to assuage his conscience. No matter his motivation, I was always glad to see him on site. He often saw ingenious ways of resolving convoluted problems, and always followed through with action on the subject soon after.

"Morning, ladies" he quipped, nodding in mine and Anna's direction. "Got any jars of pickles that need opening?"

"I sure hope there's nothing pickling in these jars" I replied back. Anna just nodded bemusedly back at him.

We briefed Tony on the state of things, and he settled in to the task at hand, smoothly retracting his suit into a portable case, and rolling up his sleeves.

"Glad to see you're settling in. It seems today you'll actually be helping" I jabbed at him.

"I'm a very helpful person. Just ask all my friends."

Together we pored over a holographic schematic of the site. There were more tunnelling warrens and chemical storage than we initially thought, interlinked with several underground streams. I was glad Tony joined in on this one. We'd have to be extra careful to keep things contained during the removal.

I jumped a little as a loud authoritative voice squawked out of Stark's wristwatch.

"Tony! You've got incoming."

I had just enough time to see his outstretched hand reaching for his suit before an explosion rocked the lab we were in, blowing out the side wall. The percussive force knocked us all across the room.

For a moment, it's all dust and chaos. I had a moment of panic where I couldn't decide which way was up, and then the room came back into focus. There was a high pitched ringing, and I wasn't sure if it was alarms or hearing damage. Probably both. I rolled onto my knees, and started coughing to clear my lungs. I spat out dust and dirt and phlegm, and probably an unhealthy amount of mystery chemical. When I could manage breathing a bit better, I sat up and took in my surroundings. The lab had been split in two by a heavy beam that crushed the lab bench in the centre of the room. I couldn't see my respirator or other safety equipment under all the rubble. I could, however, see one of the biosecurity doors, lying askew under a boulder, lights gone dark. That's not good. I worked my way over to where the exit used to be, feeling gingerly for any broken bones. I seemed to be in one piece, although my ribs creaked when I inhaled too deeply, and my right ankle wouldn't bear my full weight. I searched the spot where I knew a door used to be. My escape route was blocked by a metal brace, collapsed down from the ceiling, sparks flying from dangling wires. I was trapped.

I found a clear space to sit and take a breather. I took a moment to clear my head and push down panic (and a bit of claustrophobia that I was not about to humour right now) before I need to consider my next steps.

"Does anyone need help in there?" I heard a voice call from the other side of the rubble: the same voice as the warning from Stark's wrist.

I breathed a sigh of relief at this sign of imminent rescue.

"Yes. I'm trapped." I called out.

"Hold tight, ma'am. I'll come to you."

Through the gloom and dust, I saw the debris start to move. And then a powerful forearm reached through and gripped the largest beam, the barrier to my escape. With a bellow of effort, the beam rose, underneath it is Captain America, clad in his tactical red-white-and-blue. I scrambled back to make room as he shifted the beam out of the way.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. We've got to get everyone out of here."

"Working on it. After you." He replied, outstretching his arm towards me. I took his hand to help me up, and he guided me towards the path he'd cleared, supporting me with a hand to the small of my back as I began to climb through.

Once through to the other side, I saw the damage had not been as great as I had feared, being mostly focused on the lab where Anna, Tony and I had been working.

"Anna! Is Anna alright? Dr. Kabalevsky?"

"She's fine. Stark got her out first."

I resumed my hurried scramble to exit the facility. As we cleared the main exit, I saw a small space in the centre of a flurry of activity: a seated and very dirty Anna, and a fully armoured Iron Man, surrounded by a flock of hazmat-suited people. We joined them in the middle.

"We need to start decon right away." I said by way of greeting.

"They're setting up now." Stark replied.

I glanced at Captain America to my right. He'd also come to a stop; I seemed to have been the last one out.

"You don't have a gas filter in your suit?" I asked.

"Hm." he commented, setting his mouth in a stern line. "I haven't needed one before. Is that going to be a problem?"

"We'll see soon enough." Anna told him, looking him up and down with a practiced eye.

"What happened?" I asked, bewildered at how things could have gone so wrong, so fast.

"Some hot-shot with a grudge followed Stark in this morning."

"It must be my magnetic personality" Tony interjected, attempting to lighten some of the tense atmosphere with the typical slightly-inappropriate remarks. We ignored him.

"He's taken care of now, but he managed to stir up quite a bit of trouble."

Anna reached out her hand, and Tony helped her to her feet. "Let's see how much."


	2. Aftermath

We chatted nervously while going through the decontamination process. I was given a proper introduction to Steve Rogers, and since we were both friendly with Anna and Tony, we all fell into easy conversation. I was impressed with his calm certainty in the face of the current situation and his courteousness, especially towards Anna. He couldn't resist throwing a few sarcastic barbs at Tony. But then, who could? Despite the niggling worry I constantly had in the back of my mind, fully aware from years of experience of all the things that could be going wrong, I found myself almost enjoying myself.

We didn't discover the scope of the problem, until the nurse drawing Steve Rogers' blood broke out in angry red blisters where she had touched him. We'd been thorough with the decon showers, careful to avoid cross-contamination. We'd maintained isolation until we were sure all external traces of material were gone, and had proceeded to medical checkups. I got treatment for my bruised ribs and sprained ankle, and we all started treatment for particulate inhalation. There'd been no trace of any radioactive material on site, so we hadn't prioritised a full elecro-magnetic scan. But at the sight of those blisters, the minds of all the scientists immediately turned to radiation sickness, and back into isolation we went.

Tony's hyper-preparedness occasionally came in handy. Since nuclear armageddon was one of the things that kept him up at night, he had outfitted the main Avengers lab with full electromagnetic shielding, and we were able to seclude ourselves there, with access to all his equipment, and a chance to be productive towards the solution ourselves, instead of cooped up in a spare medical isolation unit.

Since we'd already spent hours together, going through the decontamination process, and hadn't shown any signs of radiation sickness, we decided that we'd retreat to the lab together, rather than into solitary confinement.

Once there, Tony pulled up his full array of displays and instruments. His years of working with Banner had given him an impressive knowledge of the physics of radiation, so we were somewhat prepared.

Nothing showed up in the typical radiation frequencies. What we found was just a small band near the gamma spectrum. Emanating only from Steve.

"It must be an interaction between the supersoldier serum and the contaminant. That's why it isn't affecting the rest of us" Anna surmised.

"Isn't it though? We haven't shown any symptoms of radiation sickness. And it manifested so quickly for that poor nurse" I spoke up.

"I hope she's alright" said Steve, clearly guilt stricken.

"She's getting the best treatment available" Tony reassured him. "So are we just immune? I feel fine."

"We did all get dosed with the same chemicals. Maybe it's having a counter-balancing effect" I said, looking to Anna for confirmation.

"It is possible. We'd best start a full blood screen, and start testing chemical and genetic interactions. See here:" she said, gesturing to bring up a holo-display of the room, marked out with ribbons of light representing radioactive rays. While Steve's form showed up as a bright spot, like a human sun, the rest of our forms appeared as darkness, casting shadows behind us. "We seem to be absorbing the same radiation that's emanating from Steven."

She looked from the simulation to the man himself, and did a slight double take, frowning slightly. "How are you feeling right now?"

"I must admit, not quite myself since the exposure. It seems to be getting worse."

"I know you're used to pain, but you must let me know these things. I don't like your colour."

She made him recline in the lab chair, and began setting up medical devices to monitor his vitals.

"No, I don't like the look of these at all. Alright. We've got a new priority. We can't allow Steven's condition to deteriorate any further."

Stark and I were taken aback. Things had seemed bad, but not like anything we couldn't handle until this point. But seeing the virile Captain America take such a turn shook our confidence deeply.

Steve started to speak, to say that he was fine and not to worry, but a spasm of pain must have passed through him, because he choked slightly on his words, then lay back, silent.

We all jumped into action. Tony fairly flew around the room, an anxious flurry of activity. I found a work console and started digging into researching potentially successful approaches, linking into my own research network, and setting it up so there was a continuously updating data feed from all the current monitoring as well. In the centre of the room, Dr. Kabalevsky continued to tend to her patient.

We found the most promising approach almost by accident.

Anna had been enfolding Steve's hand in her own, using reassuring touch as a doctor of her experience would, to calm her patient. I picked up the blip in the data right away.

"Do that again." I called out, bringing everyone in the room to attention. I pulled up the same radiation display as before, and as Anna enclosed Steve's hand in her own, the radiation glow disappeared. When she removed them again, his hand still showed up dark, but brightened again as the radiation crept down from his arm to fill it. "It looks like touch can cancel out his bio-electrical field."

"Is it enough?" Tony asked "How far does it extend?"

"Not at all, unfortunately. We'll have to find some way of amplifying the effect".

Anna looked down pensively at Steve's hand. After a moment she said absently to herself "Like sucking venom from snake bite." And popped Steve's finger in her mouth, sucking in her cheeks.

"The field's dropped half way up your arm." I exclaimed.

Anna set Steve's hand back down and patted it. "See Bubbala, it will be okay. It's holding."

"No wait, I can see it's slowly returning. We should try all of us, to see if it's an effect of the counter-field. Tony, you got the strongest dose, you should go next."

He took quite a bit of convincing, and Steve looked uncomfortable at the thought. I rolled my eyes; men could be so uptight about these things sometimes. But he had about the same effect as Anna had. I watched the glowing field recede in the display about up to his elbow, and then return to full strength after about a minute.

"That's all well and good", Tony said, "But it's no long term solution. And Steve is getting weaker. We barely understand what these fields are composed of, let along being able to reproduce them. And clearly something else is going on here other than positive and negative cancelling out, like we thought."

Anna tsk-tsked him quiet. "Don't scare the patient, we're finally on to something. This is good news. You try Rachael, maybe it's affected your body chemistry differently."

I walked up to Steve and took his hand in mine, as we had done before. I tentatively lifted his finger to my lips and sucked.

From the console, Anna said "Well, that's something".

"That's, erm, very distracting" Steve said, quietly.

I quickly dropped his hand from my mouth and sat back into my chair, looking away.

Anna spoke, "There's something else at play, here. That had a much larger effect."

Tony and I strode over to the console. We could see that the glowing field around Steve's body had cleared completely from his arm, and mostly from his torso as well. As we watched, the glow of radiation started to emanate again, filling back in. Tony and Anna started to throw out theories. Tony favoured the idea that it was an effect of the original exposure, that the dissipated dose I had gotten must have been missing some other chemicals that were centered near the end of the lab where he and Anna had ended up after the explosion. Anna wanted to look into body chemistry and antibodies, and start us all with genotyping. While they were arguing over which path to investigate first, I had my own idea. I left them behind and walked over to Steve, sitting opposite him. I picked up his hand and leaned in, looking into his face.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Stronger," he said.

His colour looked better, too. And some of the strain had eased from around his eyes. I leaned in and kissed him. His lips stiffened as mine met his, in surprise but then they softened as he started to kiss me back. I melted into his kiss. His lips parted and our tongues touched. As I began to suck gently on his lower lip, he came back to himself, stiffened slightly and drew back. I let him go, watching.

"What did you do?" Tony exclaimed from the monitoring station. "He's completely clear."

Anna looked surprised, then slightly smug. "It is like a fairy tale. True love's kiss".

I blushed, glancing in consternation at Steve. "I didn't mean it like that, I just thought that there seemed to be something in the human interaction, not just the fields connecting". Steve still looked faintly stunned.

"Well it's done the trick, there's no sign of the radiation field surrounding Steve."

He looked up at that. "So it's over?"

"We'll see. The other progress we made wasn't permament."

We watched and waited. After almost a minute, a faint prick of rad showed up on the monitor. After five, it had come back full force. Anna volunteered to kiss him, too. It had the same effect as her sucking on his finger. The glow cleared from around his head, but returned immediately. Tony had given up on his dosage idea.

"The boy's just horny. There's no way I'm kissing him to figure out that that's it. You two just need to screw and get it all out."

"No." Steve said flatly. "I'm not you," he said looking Tony straight in the eye, "And neither is Doctor Breton."

"He may have a point." I said, trying to avoid looking at either of them. "It's all very well, starting from a naturalistic science point of view, but you're personal friends with a Norse god, and you've been cursed with visions on more than one occasion. There are clearly other options at work in our universe. I'd love to consult Dr. Stange, or Madame Webb, although it's not exactly either of their usual fields. Until we know more about whose serum it was we had in the lab, we have to consider that it may be physical attraction that's making the difference. Not that I'm saying… er…" and I petered out there.

"We get it," Tony said, "You two have the hots for each other. I said you gotta screw it out."

"Don't be crass," Anna said, whapping him on the back of his head. "But he may have a point. We're still weeks from a solution, and you can't spend that time in quarantine. Even if it was practical to kiss him every five minutes around the clock for days, I don't think his condition would allow it. His core vitals are still deteriorating. It would buy us some time, but it's not a solution."

"Oh shit. I forgot what goody two shoes you both were. You may take a bit of hand holding, but what are the alternatives? Slowly waiting around to die? Be reasonable, it's not that big a thing."

"He's right," I said, turning again to Steve. "Sex may be the connection that lets my field break through yours completely. We have to try it."

"No." Steve said again, softer this time. "I don't want to use you like that. It may mean less to you, but to me love is something sacred. I wouldn't feel right just taking what I need. I couldn't go through with it. I won't."

"It doesn't mean less to me. But I recognise that there are exceptions and grey areas to everything. You're not expendable. The Avengers need you. The world needs you. Maybe under regular circumstances I would still be waiting for marriage, but these aren't regular circumstances, and we don't have the luxury of time. We'll just do this, and figure the rest out later."

Steve took a long beat, searching my face. I couldn't deny that the thought of being with him thrilled me, but still the thought of offering myself up as treatment felt a little dehumanizing. This was not how I saw my life going.

He must have seen it in my face, because he squared his shoulders and spoke, "I appreciate everyone's concern, but this is my life. These are my principles by which I am choosing to live. This isn't something I'm going to take lightly and be able to move on from. I don't want a life going forward from a decision like this."

"Don't be stupid!" Tony exploded. "She's offered, what's the problem?"

Anna looked thoughtful. "I've gotten to know you both. Rachael from many years in the lab together, and Steven as a patient since I came on with the Avengers. I think you two would actually make a great match. You're more alike than you know. It's the rush to push you two together, and the circumstances, that's making you hesitate. I know it's not the order you would want to do things ordinarily, but I think it'll work out great in the end. I suggest marriage as the solution to both your moral hesitations."

"Marriage!" from Tony, throwing up his arms. "You've all gone mad," he said as he paced to the other side of the room, puttering with his equipment.

"I couldn't" Steve said, "You'd still be doing it out of guilt and obligation. It would just white wash over that."

"Guilt?" I cried, "It should be me who's worried about guilting you into marriage. Marry me or die? What kind of a choice is that?"

"You two would hardly be the first making a marriage of convenience. We do it all the time in old country," she said, really laying her accent on thick in her last sentence.

We both paused. Thinking. Tony muttered away at his instrument panel at the other side of the room.

Eventually I spoke. "I do want this," I said. "I don't think you realise how much of a catch you are. I'm offering freely. Either one night, or forever. I know how special you are, not just as a hero, but as a soul. It would be lovely to share a life with you, but I want you to have your life, regardless of where we go from here. You've got your principles, but I have mine, and this is something I want to do."

"If I'm going to do this, I'm going all in. I'm not a one night kind of guy. I'm a man outside of his time, I've wanted someone for so long, but things seem so different now. Maybe the old traditions are best. The really old traditions. Are you sure you want me?"

"Yes," I said, laughing. "You're such a silly man. Of course I do."

Captain America looked bemusedly pleased. Then hesitant again, as a wave of pain passed across his face, but then returned my smile. "So we'll get married."

"There." Anna said smugly. "It's sorted. But where are we going to find a priest."

"It's fine," I said. "If Steve says this is what he wants, I trust him."

Tony couldn't help himself anymore, and burst in on our little tête-à-tête. "Ha! You've got it sorted out finally. I think you're all crazy. But hey, you finally got your blushing virgin bride."

I did blush. But then anger crept in on my embarrassment. "Watch it!" I snapped at Tony. "You will speak to me with respect. I'm an adult, and a peer. And I have saved your ass on more than one occasion."

"You're right." Tony looked slightly chastened, but kept a twinkle in his eye. "So let's get going. Where are we gonna do this?"

 _"We_ are not going to do anything. _I_ will help Steve to his quarantine bedroom. This is my field of science. I am perfectly capable of running any diagnostics I feel necessary. You may carry on with your research with Anna."

Steve went to rise to join me, but as he rose out of his chair, his knees collapsed, and he sunk back down again.

"Oh," I cried in dismay, all my ire draining quickly in concern. Tony and Anna rushed in to help, looking grave, but I waved them off. I bent down to put my face close to Steve's. "I do care about you." I was afraid of saying too much, of making him feel trapped but I wanted him to know that he could have me freely. I leaned closer and kissed him deeply. He kissed me back.


	3. Union

"Skin to skin contact is what's needed, I think."

The suite we had retreated to doubled as a holding cell, but when there wasn't a villain in residence, it was appointed as a spare bedroom. It did mean that two of the walls were viewing windows. Currently, they were blacked out, the glass shaded to bar observation from either side. But, to make myself more comfortable, I went to the recessed pocket in each corner of the room, and drew out the hidden curtains, pulling them all the way across the windows. With the curtains drawn, the room felt smaller, more cozy.

Looking at the Captain's colour, I decided to skip the niceties, and just strip down as quickly as I could. I slipped my blouse off the top of my head. I kicked off my shoes and, bending down, shimmy out of my pants and underwear, leaving them on the floor. A brief shyness came over me, to expose myself naked to another person. I'd just been stripped down, showering in front of a couple faceless assistants in hazmat suits, but this was different, more intimate. This wasn't a clinical safety measure; this was offering myself up to someone else. At least I was as clean as I had ever been. Knowing that time was of the essence, I purposefully set aside my self-consciousness, shoving it to the back of my mind.

I rose and looked at Steve on the bed. He finished untying his patient robe and shrugged out of it. I climbed on the bed, kneeling beside him and took it from him, setting it on the nightstand. I stretched my body out, pressing it against his, to try to maximise contact. As I did, I felt the hairs on my body rise, like touching a static charged balloon. I didn't know if it was an interaction of our bio-fields, or just the sexually-charged energy I felt full to the brim with. Steve's lips and hands were starting to get a blue tinge, like he was suffering from hypothermia, but as I stretched out against him, his muscles were hot beneath my touch. I ran my hands up the sides of his torso, and then down the lengths of his arms, lowering my body down onto his. He may have been too weak to rise from the bed, but his muscles were firm and hard as I explored them with my fingers. I rested my body against his chest, trying not to lean too much weight on him. Reaching down his arms for his hands, we intertwined our fingers together. I snuggled my head into the crook of his neck and listened to his breathing. After a time, it evened out, and it seemed like he wasn't struggling as much. I raised my head, and caught his eyes. The pain in them had eased.

"Well," I asked, "shall we do this?"

"Only if you really want it," he answered.

"I do," I said, and bent down to kiss him, bringing my arms in, cradling his head. As I thought about how I wanted his arms around me, he lifted them from the mattress, holding me close.

"Are you ready?" I murmured, drawing back again.

"What about… protection?" he asked, hesitantly.

"I'm on a birth control pill for other medical reasons," _Who knew PCOS would come in handy?_ "So I won't get pregnant. I had an HIV screen last time I came back from Africa, but that's mostly moot, since this is my first time having sex."

"Mine, too." And I was slightly surprised that a man of his fame and valor had made it this far with his virtue intact, but pleased that we could share this together. "And I didn't think I could get sick anymore. Well, until this."

"Alright. Let's start slow."

A thrill of emotion, different from arousal ran up my breast. This was our moment. This was the start of something new.

Our lips met, hungrier than our first kiss. I melted into him, and for a time, nothing else mattered.

* * *

After, it took me a moment to come back into myself, and I found that Steve had rolled onto his side beside me, and was gazing over my face and body as if he was seeing me for the first time. I was suddenly self-conscious under this scrutiny, and all I could manage was shy glances in his direction, until his breathing slowed to a normal rhythm, and his eyes began to droop in sleep.

I pulled up a soft blanket over Steve's slumbering form, then gently shuffled off the bed, careful not to wake him.

I made a graceful exit to the bathroom. Once there, I stood in front of the sink, and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a wanton woman. My cheeks were still flushed in the afterglow of pleasure, my lips red and swollen from Steve's passionate kisses, my hair mussed at the back of my head. It made me feel desired, and sexy in a brand new way. I sighed with satisfaction, then hopped into a quick shower, confident that the containment safeguards build into the suite would keep the last traces from making it into the environment. I was going to have to check that the radiation wasn't being transmitted by body fluids. I stepped out of the shower, toweled dry, and bundled into a soft, white fluffy robe.

I slipped back into the bedroom and checked that Steve was still sleeping. I wasn't quite ready to face the outside world yet, or deal with the million questions I was going to get... or Tony's teasing. Not wanting to wake Steve, I curled up in the easy-chair next to the bed, and watched him sleep. His slow, regular breathing assured me that he was healing, or at least doing better, and as I watched, I found myself nodding off to sleep.

I woke and checked the time. I'd been dozing for about half an hour. I sighed softly, and began to gather up my clothes from where I had tossed them, shaking them out, and getting dressed again. I steeled myself, and then quietly slipped out of the containment suite, and back into the lab.


	4. Girl Talk

While Steve slept, healing some of the damage, we hoped, we all worked away at analysing the problem.

I was so glad to have insisted on reserving the first pass at the monitoring data for myself. The others trusted me to do the raw processing properly, and I was so relieved that it gave us a bit more privacy to an already too exposed event. As I scrolled through the timelines, matching up respiratory rate and heart beats, I recognised certain times. This was when I touched him there, here was our final moment. If it was anyone else, it would have felt too voyeuristic, but I was there, this was more like a sweet remembrance of a beautiful moment, laid out in hard data. I transformed the datasets before I sent them out for more general distribution, recognising what events were going to be useful in understanding the problem, and which moments could stay intimate. One of the ones that I did leave in was the final moment. That one coincided with a massive electromagnetic energy release, fortunately of just harmless alpha radiation, followed by a drop to slightly less than background levels of radiation.

As soon as I was satisfied with my first pass at the data, I distributed it to the rest of the team. The rush and urgency to get some handle on exactly what was going on with the contaminant inside our bodies meant that there was little time to pause and think about personal things. Anna was particularly concerned about what it meant for there to be a substance in the world that affected super-soldiers so strongly and negatively.

"I don't think it was what they were attempting, but if it got out that there was a chemical that could incapacitate Captain America in just a few hours, no one enhanced with Erskine's serum, or any of its derivatives, would be safe."

"Yes," Tony said, eyes widening as he realised the implications of this for the Avengers, "I'll go talk to Maria about it. Damage Control is usually pretty good about this kind of thing, but some departments may be running a bit rudderless right now." he commented, looking at Anna and I significantly. "Hill is great at keeping this kind of thing under wraps."

Tony strode out of the room to make arrangements. We had decided, after getting a grip on the source of the radiation, that the quarantine could be mostly lifted, for the three of us at least. We still each wore radiation detector arm-bands, but it meant that we could leave the lab, and that technicians could come in, filling in a lot of the scientific leg-work to get this resolved.

We also decided that until we had established a timeline on Steve's recovery, and whether the radiation would return or his physical deterioration continue, we were to keep strict separation between him, and those of us who had been exposed to the contaminant. I knew that having a timeline would allow him to go out into the world again, without putting the public in danger, but I longed to be with him again, to be in his arms when he woke up, and to sort out together what all this meant to us. I couldn't be close to him, but I wasn't supposed to go far either, in case a sudden downturn in his health necessitated an urgent liaison between the two of us again

Over the course of the day, we made steady progress towards understanding the interaction between our physiology and the contaminant. Pepper had come in all flustered, and made a bit of a fuss over Tony. We had met a few times in the past, and I admired her ability to rein him in. I supposed I should be looking for pointers.

In the early evening, we were joined by Helen Cho, who had been out of town at a conference, but rushed back to the Avengers Compound when she was informed of the day's events. It was hard to believe that that was only this morning; it felt like a million years ago. I had collaborated with Helen on a few projects in the past, and got on so well I considered her a good friend. Both she and Anna were more familiar with the Avengers lab and facilities than I was, and their comfort with their surroundings helped put me a bit more at ease, after the adrenaline of everything that had been thrown at me today had worn off. With her superior knowledge of genetics and cell biology, Helen saw several promising new avenues for treatment that we had missed, and we all dug in on the legwork required to fully assess them.

After several more hours of investigation, I decided to call it a day. We'd set some samples cycling through lab analysis, and some computer simulations were ticking away, so Tony headed off to take care of some of his own things. When he was worried, he got even more glib, and threw himself into fine-tuning all his work, or "meddling" as Anna called it when it was collaborative projects, so she had sent him away. With just us ladies left, Helen brewed a pot of tea, and we all settled in for a break and a bit of a gossip, moving to the office/conference space next to the lab and propping our feet up on the chairs.

As we sipped our tea, focused shifted from the scientific aspects of the day's events to the personal ones. My mind strayed again to the man that I had just tied my life to, and opened up to physically, more than anyone else before.

"So, you and Steve?" Helen broke the ice. "How does that feel?"

"I have no idea. This whole situation's so crazy. Who knows how it's going to turn out. I barely know him."

"You kids will figure it out." Anna reassured me, really leaning in to her grand-motherly persona. "Besides the circumstances of this whole situation pushing you together so quickly, I really do think that a romance between you two would have always gotten serious. If I'm going to play Yenta, I think I've done a good job of matchmaking."

"I do like him, but he's practically a stranger. I'm familiar with his career, but that's hardly the sum of a person. I've got the clearance, I could request his Shield files and read up on him, but that feels a little stalker-ish. You two know him, what's he like?"

Helen spoke up first. The brilliant scientist was very soft spoken. She was properly assertive with her work, as she needed to be to run a lab as prestigious as hers, but when it came to social situations, she tended to watch and wait shyly. But we were old friends, and she wasn't afraid to speak her mind when I asked her to.

"I've seen him in action a few times. He's quick to intercede, and quick to see what needs to be done. He's no scientist, but he more than keeps up with Tony, Bruce and I when discussing non-scientific matters."

Anna interjected, "I've read Dr. Erskine's notes on why he chose Steve. His thought was that the serum enhanced whatever was in a man. Not so much making a super-soldier, as a super-Steve. Of course his physique was enhanced, but as his first outings in WWII showed, it enhanced his tactical mind and memory as well. More than that, Steve was a good man, and the serum has helped him become a great man. I've seen that myself.

"Oh yes," put in Helen, "He's always treated me with kindness and respect. He's a little slow to open up to people, and I'm so quiet myself that we aren't the closest of friends, but I know he's a good person, and I wish the best for him."

"We all want to see Steve happy, and you as well. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I wish I had set you two up ages ago. Although I suspect you both would have resented my meddling. He has such a strong moral compass, and service ethic; you two have that in common. But, you're so calm; he'll shake you out of the complacency you tend towards. And you'll offer some stability and give him someone to make him take better care of himself. Yes, this is probably going to be very good for you both." Anna finished smugly.

Just then Natasha strode into the room, coming to check on the progress of Steve's situation.

I knew Natasha Romanoff by reputation only, the Avengers' Black Widow. She was supposedly an ex-KGB special agent, trained in espionage and hand to hand combat. I knew that Steve and Natasha had taken down SHIELD together, and been on the run together several other times as well, so they must be close.

"Ah, Natalia, you're just the person we need right now," Anna called out to her.

"Oh, how can I help?" Her concern for her friend was clear in her face.

"Oh we've got the situation in hand; we'll have the science sorted soon enough. We've moved on to girl talk."

"Yes, I heard Steve finally got laid" She said, sitting down with us, and helping herself to a cookie from the box we had opened. But, seeing my expression, a mix of embarrassment and anxiousness, she quickly changed tack. "I'm glad he's got someone; it'll be good for him. Despite the friends he's made, and built into a team, I think he's been lonely. I didn't think he was ever going to find someone, the situation's given him a push in the right direction is all."

Her words were not as reassuring to me as she thought. I had the sudden idea that Steve hadn't wanted a relationship at all. "So he really hasn't wanted anyone."

"There've been women. He was hung up on his first love for so long. You know, from the fourties. He met her again when he came out of the ice. I think he was waiting for her to pass before he could move on. And then there was that brief thing with her niece. But that fizzled out quickly. Probably for the best.  
"But Steve… Steve is heartbreakingly earnest when it counts and a sarcastic little shit when it doesn't. Don't let those baby blues fool you; he'll tease you mercilessly if he gets the chance. He can be stubborn as an ass, too. When he thinks he's right he'll just dig in his heels, come hell or high water," Natasha said. "He usually is right, though."

"Natalia, why so harsh?" Anna broke in, "You'll scare poor Rachael away."

"You should know what you're getting into," she replied, addressing herself to me, unrepentant.

"Thank you," I say softly, "I can handle him, I think."

"Well," Anna said, rising, "This old woman is going to bed. It's been a long day, and you ladies would do well to do the same. There's not much more we can do until morning, anyway."

We took her advice. I did one last walk-through the lab, double checking some things and making a few adjustments. With one last glance at the containment suite, windows darkened and with a night-nurse watching over Steve's condition, I left the lab.

Anna had a small suite she regularly used when she was attending on the Avengers, and Helen had an apartment on site, so I was directed to the guest suites, set up near the lab for visiting researchers. Someone had thought to send a personal assistant to my apartment to pick up a few things for me, so I had my own toothbrush and pyjamas, and a clean set of clothes for tomorrow.

I thought that with all that was going on in my head that I would never be able to fall asleep, but I was so exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally, that I was gone as soon as my head hit the pillow.


	5. Connection

The next morning, we all got back to work. Steve had woken up after almost 20 hours of sleep. His system must have been working overtime to right some of the damage to his body. The medical team, directed by Dr. Cho had pounced on him immediately: drawing blood, doing a cardiac stress test, and generally subjecting him to whatever combination of tests and procedures they could think of. I had been through my own barrage of testing earlier. But as my health hadn't been affected by the substance in my system, and his had been, his monitoring was considerably more intense. They must have explained to him that we had to keep separated because Anna kept yelling suggestions to the medical team through the intercom, gesticulating wildly through the glass until they followed through with them.

The windows to the suite had all been cleared and the curtains drawn back again, so we could see each other through them, and the two rooms, containment suite and lab, felt more like one continuous space. Over the course of the morning, I could swear I felt eyes on me, but whenever I glanced over to Steve, I found him occupied again by the demands of the medical team. For my own part, whenever there was a lull in my work, I would catch myself watching him, daydreaming. But with the craziness going on, there was no space in time where we could talk. The crisis had thrown everything into disarray. Besides the present health and safety disaster, there had been all the regular Avengers business which now had to be adjusted. There were contingency plans to set into motion, and missions to delay.

I hoped he understood why I had seemingly abandoned him. I think he must have, because at one point, for a moment, our eyes caught each other's from across the room. He was standing behind the window to the containment suite while Helen and a nurse were fussing with a piece of equipment in front of him, and I was tuning out of an argument Tony had gotten into with one of the lab techs over some minutiae of radiation-metal interaction. When Steve saw he had caught my attention, he raised his hand in a little wave and mouthed a silent _Hi_.

 _Hi_. I mimed back at him, waving my own fingers.

He quirked the corner of his mouth up in a grin and made a shrugging gesture at the room, I guessed at the weirdness of the situation.

I huffed out a cross between a laugh and a sigh and nodded slightly, grinning shyly.

But then something Helen did recalled Steve to his situation, and the argument in front of me reached the point where it demanded my attention, and the moment was gone.

We had our chance to reconnect properly again at lunch. Someone had ordered in Chinese food for the whole lab, and we broke into little groups to eat. Steve and I wound up with chairs and trays in the corner, eating lunch; together save for the pane of thick glass separating us. I sensed Anna's interference in the way that we had been left alone, but was grateful for it anyway.

We started talking about easy things, like our work. Steve was attentive and asked questions that showed he was genuinely interested. I asked about some of the major events of his own career, some of which I had been at the periphery of, cleaning up the aftermath, and some of which I only had knowledge of from a combination of the news, and the Avengers/SHIELD files that I had read shortly after I had been granted security clearance. Steve shared a little of what they had been, from his perspective, and I was unsurprised to learn that neither the public story nor the official classified documentation had been quite the whole truth.

People gave us a bit of space, but the talk stayed very small, because we could sense the people around us trying to resist the urge to eavesdrop, and some of them doing it better than others.

While the Chinese food was classic takeout, someone had done their research, and it was pretty delicious. Poor Steve was on hospital fare, pre-measured amounts of starch, protein and fat in the form of a very sad looking turkey dinner, in order to monitor his metabolism.

"Still better than army C-rations. The speed at which you get sick of canned meat mush is... not surprising at all, actually."

As we continued chatting about food, I was surprised to learn that Steve's favourite meal was Thai curry, the hotter, the better. I would have thought that a man of his era would gravitate towards the plain, wholesome foods of his youth, but he shared his curiosity for new cuisines, and bold flavours.

"Although," he confided, "my go-to comfort food is still creamed peas on toast. I's not so popular nowadays. Sam can't stomach even the look of it, but it's great on a rainy afternoon."

Conversation drifted towards cooking and kitchens, and then where we lived.

"I had an apartment in New York, before the Avengers relocated. It was back in my SHIELD days. Natasha helped me set it up. I was still just as busy back then, so the kitchen didn't get much use, but I still had it. Now we're living much more communally. I've got a little kitchenette in my suite in the residential wing, and the Avenger's common area has a full kitchen, but more often than not, I end up in the Facility's mess.  
"How about you, are you local?"

"So much of my work requires travel, often trailing your team around, that it doesn't really matter where I live. I'm not much of a city girl, so I've got a little cabin in the woods. It's not too far from here, and the commute to the city's a reasonable distance. I guess it's not the most practical arrangement, but I like having somewhere I can retreat to. It's very peaceful out there."

"Sounds nice."

"It is, although it's a little isolated. The drive's not too bad, although owning an SUV would be more practical than the little coupe I've been driving. They're so hard on gas, I just couldn't bear to take the environmental hit. Smaller is better. A motorcycle would be the best on gas, I suppose, but they're just too dangerous. I know they're fun to drive, but way too many people die in motorcycle crashes for them to be a reasonable choice. It's just not worth it."

Steve let out a small cough. "You know I have a motorcycle, right?" he asked, quirking up the corner of his mouth in a small smile.

My eyes widened, and I bit my tongue. I'd really put my foot in it now. "Oh, I mean..." and then I pause, appreciating the absurdity of questioning the transportation choices of a man who regularly smashed up planes for a living... while he was still in them. "I suppose you may be an exception."

"You know that what I do for the team puts me in harm's way, almost every single mission," he responded, turning serious. "Can you learn to live with that?"

"Oh, I absolutely respect the work you do. The world needs you. I can see that every choice you've made has been considering what needs to be done for the greater good. You're a very selfless person, and I love that about you. If you just added me into your calculations going forward, I'd be content."

Our conversation drifted again into less personal topics. I was in the middle of a story about a fishing trip gone wrong, and working through my second helping of chow-mein, when I noticed that Steve's attention was focused mostly on my mouth. He had been so consistent with his attentiveness until this point that I couldn't help but draw my tongue seductively across my top lip, then slowly biting the bottom one, causing the supremely coordinated Captain America to fumble his fork, dropping it on his tray, and tipping his now-empty soup bowl onto the floor.

"Oops, sorry. Sorry."

I couldn't help but laugh as he broke into a profusion of apologies towards the nurse who had gotten up from her own lunch to help try to control the mess.

He sat back down a little flustered, but the spell had been broken. And since he had finished his meal, and my food was basically done, there was nothing left to do but to go back to work.

"Well," I said regretfully, "I guess I'll talk to you again at dinner."

"Yeah. I can't wait till our next 'date'."

We grinned slightly awkwardly at each other for a second, and then he rose to clear his tray, and I turned my attention back to the lab.

Much later that evening when we all broke for a meal again, dinner turned out to be hot-dogs, sausage rolls, and frozen bananas for dessert. When I realised, I turned and glared at Tony, who gave me his best I-have-no-idea-why-you-would-be-upset look, which just confirmed to me that he was the guilty party.

I had another quiet chat with Steve, over the evening meal, and then we all wrapped up our work for the day. Despite showing no signs of further deterioration or radiation, Steve still wasn't quite up to his regular super-human health, and at 11pm Anna checked his vitals and decreed it his bedtime.

While that first day had been filled with medical talk and monitoring and crisis, our second day was just as busy, spent with half medical follow-up and just enough time to return to matters previously postponed. With most of his medical testing out of the way, Steve had a portable Avengers command centre set up, and everyone just had to come to him. I wasn't officially in the loop, but I gathered that there was an important mission that had to be postponed due to this unexpected crisis taking priority, but it still needed to be ready to go the moment that Steve was cleared as safe to interact with the public. Meanwhile, I had my own matters to take care of, although I still made this my priority. But, when I couldn't think any more on the subject or when we were waiting for results to come back in, I checked in with my Damage Control team, delegating tasks and resolving problems/roadblocks that they hadn't been able to sort out on their own.

We were making good progress. Helen had settled on gene therapy as the most promising route towards a solution. I had isolated the culprit molecule from the chemical soup that had been the result of the explosion. Anna had tracked it's interaction with Steve's physiology, and Helen had come up with a plan to clear it, and its effects from his system. Although we still had no idea of the mechanism of the interaction, which was something we were going to have to figure out eventually, we all relaxed a bit, now that there was a solution in sight.


	6. Intimacy

The third and fourth days are as full as the first, and pass just as quickly. Then, early in the morning of the fifth day since Steve and I had gotten together, his health started to decline again. In a way it was a relief. We'd be able to solve the problem more definitively if there was a detectable pattern. But my heart still went out to him, as I watched his renal function decline, his heart start to struggle to keep rhythm, and his breathing labour. I wanted to go to him right away, to make things better, and soothe his body with my touch. But he insisted on waiting it out until the radiation returned, to get a better timeline on how long he could go before he became a danger to others. His doctors agreed, as long as his condition didn't decline too far. But the very minute that the radiation display detected the telltale glow, emanating from a point in his heart, they whisked out of the room, and ushered me in.

I entered into his room again, for the first time since I had left him slumbering, my heart hammering in my chest. I'm so keyed up with nerves and excitement. The last time we had been in each other's presence, I had been buoyed by the certainty of my decision and the confidence that came from knowing what needed to be done.

This time was different. There was no urgency to get physical right away, although we both understood where this was heading. But more than that, I realised to myself, I wanted to win him over. I wanted him to love me. I had said I would be there as long as he needed me, but it was more than that now. I never wanted to let him go. With the stakes higher, so was my anxiety about how to start.

That eased somewhat when I walked into the room. Steve had been reclining on the sofa, resting a moment, his eyes closed with a tense expression on his face. But, when he heard me step in, his face cleared, and he turned a sunny smile in my direction.

"Rachael, come sit with me."

He squeezed over to make room for me, and I slid onto the sofa, resting my back against the side arm so I could more fully face him.

It was strange, in some ways it felt like I was meeting him for the first time, and yet we had just been talking half an hour ago. I wanted to start on familiar ground, so I asked him tell me more of the story of the time Clint had convinced Vision that he needed to grow hair.

It occurred to me that while we had been chatting before, separated by the glass window, I had longed to reach out to him, but now I could. In fact, I should. It would help him recover.

I reached out and trailed my fingers up the back of his neck, idly caressing the short hairs at his nape. It was a bit of an awkward distance to reach. In response, Steve scrunched closer to me, drawing up my legs from the sofa to make room, and placing them across his lap.

I sighed contentedly. "There, that's better.  
"Tell me about your childhood."

He started to share a bit about what it was like growing up, poor and invalid, in Brooklyn. I wanted to hear more about what life was like in the 30's, but that could wait for another time. Right now it was Steve himself I was interested in.

He talked about Bucky, sharing a few hilarious anecdotes about them pal-ing around New York before the war, and about how he stuck by him when his mother died, and things got really hard.

"Even when I had nothing, I always had Bucky. I couldn't bear it when I thought he had died during the war. He was the first person I had lost while in command, and it hit me very hard." His voice dropped low, "He was the last family I had left and he was gone.  
"But then the Winter Soldier showed up, and I had him back. For a little bit at least. He's in Wakanda now, back in cryofreeze, waiting to figure out what Hydra did to his head. Waiting for it to be safe."

"They're good people, the Wakandans. I'm sure they're taking good care of him."

"Do you know them?"

"I've got several Wakandan friends. We met doing relief work in central Africa, and I ended up doing some of my training in Wakanda."

His eyes tightened at this statement. "The relief workers who died in Laos, did you know any of them?"

"Not personally, no. But I'd worked with that relief agency before."

"I'm sorry."

I could see that he carried a lot of personal guilt about the event. My heart went out to him. "When you do that kind of work in Africa, you accept a certain degree of personal risk. The people who need the most help are where there's political instability, or epidemics, or natural disasters. You maybe wouldn't expect to find it in Laos, but the world's not a safe place."

"How long were you there?" he asked.

"Oh, I lived there for several years. Some of it was relief efforts, but some of it was just my own work. The Wakandan approach to science is ingenious in many ways. I learned a lot there.  
"But, even though I had lived in Africa for a bit as a child, and in many ways it felt like home, it was tough living as an ex-pat. Culture shock is a definite thing. I had so much fun learning the different ways that people do things, but sometimes you just get tired of every little thing being an extra level of effort. Things like renting a car or opening a bank account are relentlessly an exercise in picking up social cues, and trying to figure out what you should have looked up ahead of time."

"Oh man, can I ever relate. And the pop culture references. I never realised how common they were until half of them went over my head."

I laughed. "Yeah, you get tired of asking to be let in on them. I eventually just became the queen of smile and nod."

While we talked, Steve had been idly caressing my legs as they were slung across his lap, stroking his palm up the length of my leg, then trailing the backs of his fingers down to start again. As we talked, he had been getting more and more adventurous, slipping his fingers up under the hem of my skirt for a while, then pushing it up, sliding his palm up along my inner thigh. What started out as comforting reassurance was quickly becoming a distraction, although definitely a welcome one.

I trailed off mid-sentence, having forgotten what I was saying. I was only aware of Steve, head drawn close to mine, both of us breathing heavily, his eyes fixated on my lips. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to kiss him. Our kiss was slow and tender and it felt like the universe was spinning around us.

I had been aching for him. While we had been getting to know each other, separated by glass, I had just wanted his arms around me again. But, now that his hands were caressing my skin, my body remembered his touch, and responded avidly.

I reach for his hand, grasping it in mine. "Wait," I say "We're wearing way too many clothes for this."

There's so much fire in the smouldering look he gave me in response, you'd think I would melt. Maybe I do.

I swung my legs around to the floor, and stood before him. I started unbuttoning my blouse, which instantly riveted his attention to the soft cleavage I was slowly revealing. I got to the last button, and shrugged off my blouse. Steve swallowed hard, hands flexing as he watched.

"Do you want to help me with this?" I asked, quirking a finger under my bra strap, pulling it away from my body.

Steve reached forward, trailing his fingertips lightly up the sides of my ribs then wrapping his hands around my ribcage, almost encircling me. He drew closer as his hands moved behind me, fingers trembling slightly as he reached for the clasp of my bra. He unlatched it, and I let it fall from my body.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed.

I stepped forward into the circle of his legs, and grasped at his shirt, pulling upward. He lifted his arms, and it slid off mussing his hair as it went. I absently smoothed it down for him, as I ran my eyes along his naked torso, then glided my hands over the tops of his shoulders, admiring the sharp definition of each of the muscles there, and revelling in the feel of his skin beneath my fingertips.

I stepped back and, unfastening the clasp on my skirt, let it drop to the floor.

"Take your pants off." My voice broke a little on the final word.

He did so. Looking up at me, he wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my belly, and breathing in the scent of my skin.

I crooked a finger under his chin, drawing his mouth towards mine as he rose to his feet. His kiss engulfed me and I realised just how tall he was, as he bent his neck down to meet my face, wrapping his arms around me and drawing me upward. I broke our kiss, and reaching for his hand, led him to the bed.

* * *

We had our moment, and it was as perfect as the first time had been. I knew people were waiting for him, so I started to roll away from him, to let him go, but he just clutched me tighter.

"Stay with me" he said, holding me close.

"I thought you had to get moving, now that we've... sorted out your problem."

"I do, but I'm not ready yet."

That was fine with me. I relaxed into post-coital bliss. After what we'd just done, I was completely spent. I revelled in how close I felt to Steve in that moment, arms and legs entwined. I didn't want to move, ever. It was too early in the day to fall asleep, but my mind drifted into nothingness, and I just floated for a while in his arms.

I lost track of time, but after what felt like both too soon, and an eternity, Steve let out a long sigh and slowly pulled away. I watched lazily as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Reaching his arms up, he stretched out his back and shoulders; I could see his muscles flexing under his skin. He got up and I heard him walk to the washroom and start the water for a shower. He finished quickly and re-entered the bedroom to start dressing. All his tactical gear would be in the Avengers ready-room, but someone had brought up his underlayer and he slipped on a technical-looking tight blue shirt and navy cargo pants. He looked to me on the bed, and seemed somewhat surprised to see me watching him with half lidded eyes, rather than dozing.

"I'll be back in a few days" he told me, before pausing, then striding back to the bed, bending over me, and planting a soft, light kiss on my lips.

"Bye" I whispered huskily, not sure what else to say in the moment.

And then he was gone.


	7. Lull

Now that a safety timeline had been established, it meant that lives could return to a semi-normal routine. Steve had headed out his mission with Hawkeye and Black Widow. I didn't know the details of what they would be doing, but I had heard from Tony that they had been planning it for months. In the aftermath of the crisis, it had been delayed as long as it possibly could have been and they had started looking at scrapping the whole thing, and then having to deal with whatever global political instability popped up as a consequence. But, things had worked out in time, and they had headed out on mission, mostly according to plan, just a little delayed. I wondered what Steve's role in the plan was, and hoped he was doing well.

A return to routine also meant that I could return to my own work, dropped for the emergency that had overturned my life, but now pressing enough to demand my attention in person.

I packed up my few belongings and consolidated my research in the lab, organising my notes on the substance, so they would be useful to anyone who needed to refer to them. Anna and Helen had pretty much gotten a handle on an approach to treatment. They had settled on a combination of blood filtration, using a modified dialysis machine, and stem cell treatment, reversing the modification the substance had made to the bone marrow of those affected. Tony was to be the guinea pig, taking the first round of treatment to see if it was effective, and to monitor any side effects. If everything worked out fine, Steve and Anna were next on the docket. We all had high hopes that what we had would do the trick. I had confidence in the Doctors' work, and was looking forward to moving on from this. Although, my own treatment was to be delayed: postponed in case Steve's condition wasn't fully resolved or the radiation returned. It meant extra medical monitoring in case the substance in my blood started to affect me, but I was feeling fine, and not contagious in any way, and so I was okay with that.

With the situation at the Avengers' Facility mostly wrapped up for now, I said my goodbyes to my friends in the lab, and headed out to check on the progress of the site remediation at the ruined bunker. My Damage Control team had been keeping me up to date on the progress, but I wanted to see the site in person. The drive out gave me a chance to gather my nerve, and shift my mindset from the strange sense of urgency that everything at the Avengers' Facility had been steeped in, and back to my own everyday life of scientific meticulousness in organizing site remediation projects, and managing my lab team. Already, everything since the crisis was taking on a dream-like quality; it seemed so surreal I was having a hard time convincing myself it had really happened.

As I pulled up to the site, it showed all the signs of having made good progress. The hazmat tents that had been put up after the explosion were mostly gone, although I could still see one small one for suiting up and decontamination. With the upheaval and damage to the bunker's structure, focus had shifted from remediation to containment, but that was a temporary stop-gap, and now it was time to try to make the area safe again. My main concern had been keeping the contaminant out of the water supply, and the engineering team assured me that they had set up sufficient barricades to stop up the contaminated underground streams, and keep contaminants out of the water table. We had set up regular testing to be sure anyway, and so far all the results had come back clean.

With containment looking successful, the next step was either going to be removal or the breakdown of the contaminants into less harmful molecules. At Damage Control, we had a whole suite of bio-engineered microbes that would digest and break down a number of known harmful substances, but I was hesitant to make use of any of them this time, due to how unpredictable that one contaminant had been with human physiology. There was no way I was going to risk making things worse.

My team had assembled a list of identified chemicals that had been released during the bunker take-down and subsequent explosion. Some of them I recognised right off the bat, as having short half-lives, and knew they would break-down on their own. Others would take some experimentation as to the best approach. I favoured heat for the soil contaminants. Their molecular structure looked relatively unstable, and the subsequent by-products would be much more straightforward to deal with. I was waffling between filtration and draining for the contaminated water. Maybe both. With the way that the streams intersected the bunker, draining would probably be easier to accomplish, and would probably end up being more effective. I went with that, and began giving directions and assignments for the next phase.

After a long day of intensive work and decision-making, I was just about beat. I knew my staff would keep going as long as I was, but I could see they were starting to flag, too. They'd been working steadily at this task since that first morning when it all went down, but safety had been securely accomplished, and things had progressed to important, but not urgent, so I sent everyone home, and headed out myself.

I hadn't been back to my own place since the start of the crisis, almost a week ago now. As I walked in the door, the relief of familiar surroundings hit me like a wall. I hadn't realised just how much I had missed my little cabin in the woods. I was looking forward to an evening relatively free of demands, and a bit of solitude.

I collapsed onto the couch, and relaxed with a sigh. I looked around fondly at the rustic, but comfortable, furnishings that I had acquired over the years. I was pleased with how I had outfitted the rural cabin, really making it into a home. I had been happy here. But now, as I looked around, I couldn't help imagining what it would be like to share it with another person, with Steve. I could just see him walking in the door at the end of a long day, or laying in a fire in the woodstove at the start of a cold evening. Looking up at the loft, where my bed was, cold and empty, I reflected on how nice it would be to have Steve to warm it with me.

I wondered where he was spending his night, and if he was thinking of me, like I was thinking of him. In two days, he was due to be back, and our whole whirlwind acquaintance would start back up again.

Reluctantly, I got back up off the sofa to take care of the little housekeeping tasks that had been neglected for the week I had been away: cleaning out my fridge, gathering my laundry, generally tidying. Some of my plants were looking a little droopy, but I had chosen mostly succulents and cactuses for a reason. Tomorrow I would head in to the Damage Control headquarters in the city, and oversee the remediation efforts there. There were a few promising neutralisation experiments that I wanted to see the results of. And then one more night at home, then back to the Avengers' Facility to hopefully finalise the treatment approach. And, a twinge from my heart reminded me, to be there when Steve got back.


	8. Reunion

While the Captain was still away on his mission, Helen and Anna finalized their treatment plan, and started Tony on the regimen. Other than the minor discomforts associated with the medical procedures, things seemed be going quite well. We ran him through the full suite of monitoring scans that Steve had been through before he left, generating an unconsolidated load of raw data ready to be assessed, and extrapolated to attempt a prediction at how it would affect enhanced physiology. I had returned to the Avengers Facility to assist, and we all worked away at analysing the initial results, divvying up the workload. For the chemical and molecular interactions, I knocked out a few basic statistics, and set up a more thorough algorithm to run overnight, picking up any more complex anomalies.

Before I realized it, it was coming up to midnight. I checked my messages, and there was a note from Steve. They'd completed their mission, and were heading back to the Facility. Even on the QuinJet, it's a multiple hour flight. I could expect them back around 3am. I'd missed dinner, but snacked as I worked, so I just decided to pack it in for the night. I packed a few lab notes, and intended to head to the elevators. But, instead of one of the rooms set aside for visitors, Tony's Facility AI directed me to Rogers' suite. I was not planning on this. I wasn't ready to presume upon his space like that. But, when I stepped inside, I saw that my bag and other personal effects had been set in the bedroom. _Was it th_ _e Facility staff, or Steve himself who made this decision?_ I decided to stop agonizing over it. I was afraid to make a fuss over the subject; that would only be counter-productive. As I accepted my current living arrangements, my thoughts moved to sharing that bed with Steve, and the idea of spending the night so close to him thrilled me. He'd be back soon. I decided to grab a few hours sleep first. I changed into my nightdress, a wrap number that was fairly modest in cut, crossing over and tying under my bust, in a touchable coral silk that I knew made my skin glow. I hoped that struck the right balance between enticing and avoiding presumption. Slipping under the neatly made covers, I tried not to muss them too much, in case I wanted to make a graceful exit. Drifting off, I dreamed of Steve.

A buzz from my phone woke me up. It was a message from him, letting me know that they were back. "In case you're still awake, I'll be up in a minute. We did the de-briefing on the jet, so I shouldn't be long".

I was relieved that he seemed to be expecting to find me in his room, but nervous butterflies danced in my stomach at the thought of spending time alone with him again. I climbed out of the bed and smoothed the covers over. I composed myself, wiping sleep from my face, and smoothing and then fluffing my hair. Tucking your legs under me, I leaned back on the pillows, waiting.

I heard him enter the ante-room. He sighed, and I could hear him kicking off his boots and the soft clink of his shield as he set it down. All the rest of his gear would be stored neatly downstairs, in the levels with the workroom. But, the shield that was an extension of his arm when he was in action, that, he liked to keep close. Suddenly, he was at the door of the bedroom, his broad shoulders filling the frame.

"I missed you," he said simply, with longing and eagerness in his look. All my apprehensions about how my presence here would be received flew away, as I took in his face. I felt wanted, and I want in return. I rose up on my knees, loosening the fastening of my nightdress as I did, so the front fell open, revealing my naked body. His eyes drifted downward, taking in the sight. I stretched out my arms, reaching for him.

"Come here," I beckoned. In two swift strides he swept me up, our foreheads touching, our breath intertwining. He must have showered on the jet after the mission, but his exertions since then had left a pleasing musk on his skin. I breathed it in deeply. I slid my hands down his body, exploring the muscles of his back, his sides, as I did. Following his shirt down, I dipped my fingers past his belt, inside his pants, gripping the hard muscle of his ass, thrilled at my own boldness. Finding the bottom hem of his shirt, you pulled it upward, bringing it up past his broad shoulders, and over his head. I stretched to lift it past his arms, but I wasn't tall enough. My efforts pushed my soft and yielding breasts against his firm chest, and he took control again and flung the shirt to the corner of the room, then reached down and pulled me close. We kissed. My lips parted, to take more of him in. We found a frantic rhythm of sucking, lingering kisses. I forgot that there was anything else, there was just Steve and me, our lips entwined, our tongues caressing. But he had other things on his mind. His lips left mine, and travelled down the edge of my jawline, my neck. He lingered on my pulse point, and I threw my head back, wanting to expose all of myself to him, to be consumed by him. He continued little, travelling kisses trailing down my collar bone, my clavicle. Scooping me up in his arms, he carried me to the bed.

* * *

In the soft afterglow of lovemaking, we lay on our sides, relaxed. We gazed at each other, neither of us with any desire to move whatsoever. As I watched his face, he wore a somewhat dazed, but happy expression. I couldn't help myself reaching over to caress his face with the back of my fingers, tracing the lines of his jaw, feeling the faint scratch of stubble forming. His own hand reached to trail lazily down my side, following the curve of my waist and the swell of my hips. We rested comfortably in each other's silence for a while.

"So, this is real" I said, reverently. I realized as I did, that while I'd been broadcasting my feelings with my words and my actions, I hadn't left much room for Steve to reciprocate. Fear tightened around my heart at the thought that I may have been misinterpreting his perspective, and imagining a romance that had been mostly one-sided. I frantically tried to recall what we'd said on the topic, and if there was anything that couldn't have just been said for politeness, or had been purely lust.

Steve must have seen the panic in my face, because he settled his arm possessively around my waist, and shifted closer to me, looking deeply into my eyes.

"You're a very special person. And, I find, very special to _me._ "

"But where is this going?" I gushed. Now that my anxiety was piqued, I wanted to get everything out in the open, settled; so we were on the same page. "If there's an 'us' what does that look like?"

His eyes turned introspective for a moment, and I could tell by the set of his jaw, and the pursing of his lips that he was taking my question very seriously.

"I thought I knew, once, what my life would look like. I'd serve my country, and when the war ended, we'd all go home, and start to rebuild some stability. I pictured a little household, with a wife and kids waiting for me at the end of every workday. That all seems like something from a dream now: hazy and detached. Everything seems different now. _I'm_ different now."

"Do you still want children?"

"I don't know... I don't know." He focused his eyes on my face again. "Do you?"

"I don't know either; it would depend on so many other things. Do... do you still want a wife?"

"I'd like _you_ ," he replied, snuggling me closer for emphasis. I let out a small breath of relief I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "The domestic housewife I pictured in my youth seems naive now. It would be so impractical nowadays. Heck, it probably would have gone all wrong back then, too. I _would_ like a partner; someone to share my life with. It's been lonely since I came out of the ice. And the team's great, and in some ways I have Bucky back, but it's not the same as having someone really special."

"So, do you think we could have a future together?"

"I gave you my word, didn't I?"

"Yes, but I won't hold you to that. I believe that you're a man of honour, but I won't tie you down with duty. I want you, but I don't want a man who's with me out of obligation."

"Maybe it started that way, but not anymore. As I've gotten to know you, I find myself admiring you more and more. I can see us growing old together. None of us know how many days we have left on this earth, but I want to spend those days with you."

After such a declaration, I couldn't help myself. I pulled myself in for a kiss, slow and unhurried, and for a moment, all my other cares seemed to fade away.

"I love you." It just spills out of my mouth. I'm a little surprised, but I mean it. Deeply.

Steve looks introspective, and fear grips my heart, as I worry he's searching for a tactful thing to say to let me down gently, but he must have been searching his feelings, because he turns his eyes back to mine with a "Yes. I definitely love you, too."

He caught my hand in his, and gave it a tight squeeze. "So let's get married. Soon," and after a pause " _Will_ you marry me?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," I laughed delighted, and was rewarded with a boyish grin beaming in my direction.

"I don't have a ring."

"That's fine. I don't need one. It'll be a short engagement anyway. Just a wedding band will make me very happy."

"So then it's just the wedding to arrange, and we'll be husband and wife. Tony will help out, he loves to throw parties."

"Don't I know it. Any chance to show off. I suppose all the Avengers will be there."

"Yes, they're a great team, and my dear friends, all of them. I'd like to invite the Howling Commando's descendants, too. And T'Challa as well."

It took me a beat to realise he meant King T'Challa, ruler of the nation of Wakanda, who Steve was apparently on a first name basis with.

"And if he's able to come, I suppose we'd have to invite the rest of the diplomatic core; Senator Brant and the rest of the SHIELD higher ups. And probably a few carefully chosen press."

I was a little shocked at how quickly the list was accumulating, and got bashful at the prospect of having to carry the attention of all those people on my wedding day. "Wow, so many people. I don't know how I feel about such a huge wedding."

"I'm sorry. I _am_ a public figure. I'm afraid you're going to be under a bit more scrutiny than you have been in the past."

"It's not that so much that I mind, but it's just not how I pictured my wedding day. I wouldn't be able to relax at all. Couldn't we just elope?"

"I don't want to do this in secret. I want everyone to know that I'm claiming you as my wife. How we met is no-one's concern but our own, but I want to show you off. I want everyone to know that I love you."

I melted a little at that declaration, but stuck to my guns. "What about if we went to Wakanda? It would be a valid reason not to invite everyone and their dog, and it would mean that you could have Bucky for your best man. We can have a big reception when we get back, and you can tell anyone you want then, but we'd have the ceremony just for us."

He made a show of deliberating, but I could tell that I had him convinced the moment I mentioned Bucky.

"All right," he said, "Just as soon as I get this damned poison out of my system, we'll make it happen. And not a moment later, you hear."

I laughed, and peppered the mock-seriousness on his face with giggling little kisses, until he broke and started laughing with me.

"You know, with things having gone so well with Tony's treatment, yours is just about ready to start. In order to gauge its effectiveness, we're going to have to separate again, but I've managed to convince everyone that we won't need strict quarantine between us. I'll have to give you up for a while, until we're sure the cure has taken hold, and I don't want to. We can still be in each others presence, but we're forbidden from touching."

"Nooo, but I love the touching," Steve whined while nuzzling in to the crook of my neck, and I couldn't help but giggle at the ridiculous incongruity of such a specimen of masculinity fussing like a thwarted schoolboy.

I took the moment to roll into him, lifting his arm around me, snuggling in with my back to his chest. I raised one of his hands to mine for a soft kiss, then tucked it under my face and let sleep overtake us.


	9. Dissemination

Slight movement and the rustling noise of another person started to bring me up gently from a deep slumber. As I started to become aware of reality again, I pried my bleary eyes open, and made out the golden form of Steve Rogers, repetitively bending to touch his toes, doing his morning calisthenics.

My eyes cast about for the clock. 5:45 am. I groaned. _Of course Captain America is a morning person._

My movement caught his attention.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Steve greeted me. "Are you ready to start the day?"

 _All right._ I tried to piece together my faculties, aiming to form an intelligible response. I managed some words. But, my sleep-addled brain must have been not quite up to the task, because Steve just laughed and said "Never mind," and bent to kiss me gently on the forehead, "take your time."

He finished his last set of repetitions, waiting for me to fully come awake. But must have decided that after the fifteen minutes that it took him, during which I had only managed to stare at the wall, he would just move on with his day and let me catch up with him later.

"I've got to meet Sam for a run. We'll be back after eight. Make yourself at home. Anything in my suite is yours, and there should be a few people milling about the common area making breakfast soon."

He waited patiently and I fought the fog clouding my brain, managing a smile and a "yes... thanks." And he slipped out to start his day.

After he had gone, I finally swam up through the last strata of sleep, and all the things I could have, should have, said earlier filled back in. _Good morning,_ would have been a start. _Sorry, I'm a slow waker._ He probably figured out himself. _Thank you, I'll be up soon,_ would have been helpful. _Don't worry, I'll find my way around._ Maybe _Thanks for making me feel so welcome._ Or, _I love you._

Too late now. I'd just have to make up for lost opportunities later. I padded to the ensuite, showering and dressing quickly to try to catch up with my day.

I tidied up the belongings that I had brought from my cabin, not unpacking, but not exactly _not_ not unpacking either. We were going to have to sort out some logistics, and soon.

With nothing left to do, and a craving for morning caffeine driving me forward, I steeled myself and exited the suite. Steve's door was near the end of a short corridor that opened into the Avengers' private common area. There was a modern, yet comfortable lounging area in the centre, with a large table and chairs to the left and an open kitchen area to the right. I could smell the aroma of fresh coffee brewing and made my way over there.

A young woman was adding water to a pot at the sink, with her back to me, but turned to set it on the stove, noticing me entering the room.

"Good morning, you must be Rachael. I'm Wanda, and this is Vision," she said gesturing to the distinctly red gentleman (gentle-android?) seated on the other side of the island.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm not intruding am I?"

"Not at all. I was just finishing making some oatmeal. You can keep me company. Everyone else ate before they went out, and Vis here doesn't eat at all."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. While I do not eat, as Wanda explained, I do think that I can carry on appropriate breakfast conversation." I didn't know what I was expecting from whatever it was that Vision had become, but my first impression was genial politeness.

Wanda shared up a heaping bowl of porridge, I helped myself to some coffee from the pot, and we sat down to share a meal together.

I was a little unsure what my role was supposed to be here. I didn't want to just bail on them but I had my own things to get on to.

"I'm not sure how your mornings here go, but I'm supposed to meet Tony and Dr. Cho at 8:30 in the main assembly hall. That's just one floor down from here, isn't it?"

"Yes," Wanda answered. "We've got a regular training day scheduled, so we're meeting Steve and the rest of the crew there at the same time. They're doing their morning conditioning right now. Vis and I get to bow out because we can fly. I do still need to keep in shape, but I prefer swimming to running laps at dawn."

"I can't say I blame you."

We continued making small talk over breakfast, then tidied up and headed down to the assembly hall. When we arrived, Clint and Natasha were already there. They greeted us politely. I'd made Clint's acquaintance over the course of that quarantine week in the lab, as he had been in frequently to consult with Steve over their mission. Although, that week had been such a flurry of activity, I hadn't gotten to know either him or Natasha very well, beyond general introductions.

I let out a small sigh of relief as Helen and Anna arrived. Not that the Avengers weren't being perfectly pleasant, but they were Avengers. I was glad to have some intermediaries who knew us both to break the general air of cool politeness. The arrival of Tony Stark shook things up even more.

I felt a brush of fresh air from behind me, as an outside door opened and closed. I turned, and it was Steve, coming in with Sam close behind him. He strode straight up to me, a lopsided grin on his handsome face, and captured my hand in his. I could feel all the eyes in the room swivel towards us.

"Have you told them?" he asked.

"No, not yet."

"We're getting married," he announced loudly, in such a way that I could tell he had barely been holding it in.

The crowd around us broke into raucous congratulations, as Steve pulled me in close to his side.

The reactions ranged from cautious to satisfied based on how well each person knew us as a couple. Clint and Wanda looked a little surprised. Natasha had a knowing smile on her face, and Anna looked like the cat that ate the canary.

Steve and I broke apart as various well-wishers pulled us in opposite directions. Sam was clapping Steve roughly on the back, and kept repeating "My man, my man," at him, as Helen pulled me aside to quietly tell me how happy she was for us.

Clint welcomed Steve into the "ranks of the permanently hitched," while Anna went around spreading cheer, and generally taking credit for the whole thing.

"Well," Tony broke out, "The Boyscout and Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes. I can think of worse matches. I'm sure you'll be very happy with each other. This calls for champagne." He cast about looking for someone he could rope into fetching it.

"It's not even nine a.m., Tony," Natasha deadpanned.

"What of it?" he paused hoping someone would take the bait. When no one did, he continued smoothly, "Rain-cheque it is, then."

"Welcome to the team," Sam told me, grasping my hand in his. "I look forward to getting to know you better."

"Speaking of," Tony said, "We'll have to get you set up here. There's some space near Helen's lab where we can build an extension, and I've been reading up on your recent publications. It's very interesting work that you're doing with microbes and chemical immutability. I can think of a dozen applications that would slot right in to our other research here."

"Nice try, Tony. I've seen how you lure people onto your payroll every time there's a crisis. You're not poaching me that easily. I'm not about to just abandon my department at Damage Control."

"But just think how much easier things would be for you to work at the same location as Steve."

"We'll make it work somehow. I'm not prepared to give up my lab, or just hand my department off to someone else."

"Can't fault me for trying. What about a Damage Control satellite campus? The downtown facility's getting crowded anyhow. It wouldn't even be on the taxpayer dime. I'd roll it into renovations here. Think of it as a wedding gift."

"No, Tony. It's too much. I'm not going to accept a whole new lab just because of who I'm sleeping with. Everything I've gotten in my career I've earned by my own merit. I'm not into handouts."

"It's not just for you. Think of Steve. Take it from me, time spent commuting adds up quick. Do you know how guilty he's gonna feel for taking time out of the Avengers for you, and time away from you for Avengers work?"

He had found the right buttons to push. I'd trade off a lot to maintain my own independence, but Steve's happiness was another matter.

"All right," I conceded. "Let me write a grant proposal, and your foundation can decide if there's enough merit there to fund it. Just so long as you keep in mind that I don't work for you."

"Oh, most of my staff feel the same way; just ask Maria, or Selvig."

"Or Pepper?" I asked, slyly.

"Err," he blanched, "Maybe not Pepper. Please."

I gave him a smug look, but left it at that. I'd let him get the last word on the subject, but overall I was very pleased with the arrangement. He was right, we _were_ running out of room for the exo-toxicology lab at the main Damage Control facility, vying for space as we were with the other departments. And it did make sense to have a branch close to the Avengers headquarters. After all, they sent so much work our way.

Conversations seemed to be winding down, and Steve glanced at the clock before addressing the whole group. "We'd like to keep it quiet until after the wedding. It shouldn't be long. Just as soon as my current medical situation is settled, we plan to elope. We can make a press announcement when we get back."

"Don't worry about it, Cap," Clint said, "We've got plenty of practice holding on to secrets."

With that, it was time to go our separate ways. Anna and Helen started drifting off in the direction of the labs, while the rest of the crew headed towards the outside doors. Steve and I hung back to make our goodbyes.

"You know you're welcome to look in on our training. It can get pretty repetitive, but you might be interested in what we get up to day-to-day."

"Thank you. I think I'm going to be all tied up in the lab for the next little while, but maybe sometime soon."

He bent down to kiss me, and as our lips met, a whooping cheer went up from the group that hadn't quite dispersed after all. Steve and I drew back from the kiss, somewhat shyly, but he gave my hand a squeeze, and I answered his smile with one of my own, before we both moved on to our days.


	10. Resolution

Steve's final medical procedures were scheduled for early the next morning. We had spent one last night together, tender and sweet, knowing that we wouldn't have another stretch of time alone together until the wedding. In the morning, I gave myself permission to feel clingy. It was appropriate anyway, since Anna and I were supposed to stay close during the process, in case, for some unexpected reason, the radiation made a return. Tony wouldn't be immune to it anymore, but she and I hadn't been through the elimination regimen yet. Plus, since the process we had worked out in hopes of a cure would be administered over several hours, it gave me an excuse to keep Steve company for the duration. Not that I needed one.

We made our way to the lab. The quarantine room inside the lab had been set up as a medical bay, complete with hospital bed, dialysis and vital-monitoring machines, and all the other accoutrements of a modern hospital.

I held Steve's hand as the nurse prepped him for the modified hemodialysis that we planned to remove the contaminant that was flowing through his veins, mingled with his blood. First she administered the chelation agent that I had designed to bind up the contaminant, to make sure we got every last trace of it from his system. She gave it fifteen minutes for it to work through his system, mingling fully with his blood, before she started hooking up the cannulae to connect him to the dialysis machine.

I knew this was coming. Yet, though I was a biologist, I was not in medicine. I knew how dialysis worked. I thought I was prepared. But, seeing those huge needles go digging into the arm of someone who I had come to love was very different than knowing the theory of it. I quavered a bit, and looked away. Steve gave my hand a long squeeze, and I looked at his face instead.

"I'll be fine. I'm an old pro at getting poked and prodded."

Although he showed no outward sign, I _felt_ his nervousness. _This isn't about me._ I rallied and put on a brave face. I squeezed his hand back.

"I thought you said you didn't get sick anymore."

"There's always research. Dr. Kabalevsky's always telling me why she needs more blood. The reasons change, but the needles stay the same."

The nurse started up the machine, and we settled in for the four hours it would take for the hemodialysis to run its course.

We talked about everything. Our childhoods, our lives, our hopes for the future. We made some sketchy plans for what we'd get up to before the wedding. I'd head off to Wakanda a few weeks earlier than him, to make some arrangements. He'd stay behind, and take care of things from this end. I still hadn't told my family about us. That was waiting for the secrecy rating to drop a level. Not that I didn't trust my family, but if details got out before things were finally settled, it would put both of us in danger.

A few hours in, an assistant dropped off a DVD with a note scrawled in Tony's handwriting. "Do you understand this reference?"

Steve explained, "It's an old inside joke."

I smiled as I recognised this small signal from Tony to let his friend know he was thinking of him.

I put the movie on, and we started watching together.

Part way through the second act, Dr. Kabalevsky came in to supervise the nurse unhooking the dialysis machine. She sent a blood sample out to Dr. Cho in the lab next door, and started the IV drip of bioengineered stem cells.

"We've run some cultures, and these should replace the bone marrow modified by your exposure to the contaminant. You may feel some weakness and dizziness. That's normal. And, we're going to continue to monitor your vitals very closely. We're going to let it infuse over the next couple hours. It'll be easier on your body that way."

Steve gave her a tight lipped nod in confirmation.

He didn't feel much like talking, so we turned the movie back on, and watched quietly for a while.

As the final credits played, Steve started talking quietly.

"I first saw this in theatre during its original run. It cost me twenty-five cents. I knew should have saved that money for a new winter jacket, but I just wanted to have a bit of fun. I went with Bucky. We were so young then. We thought we carried the weight of the world on our shoulders, but we had no idea really. We'd known struggle. I understood struggle. But I hadn't seen war. I didn't understand betrayal. Not then. Not yet."

I was a bit alarmed at his small monologue. I'd never heard him so melancholic. I passed my eyes over his monitors. His heart rate was elevated and his blood pressure was dropping. Before I could do anything, alarms started to go off and the medical team rushed into the room.

There was a scramble to figure out what's going on, as Dr. Cho and Dr. Kabalevsky checked readouts and issued orders to nurses to hook up extra monitoring.

I pulled myself together. Inside, I was a roil of emotional distress, but I shoved it down and tried to act rationally, to stay out of the way and assist where I could.

"What is it? What have we missed?" Dr. Cho mused out loud. "We couldn't take Rogers' whole-system response into account during our in vitro trials. Check for anti-bodies and white blood cell count." A nurse stepped in to take a blood sample, then rushed it out to the lab outside.

Suddenly, a new sound filled the atmosphere. It was the radiation sensors. Steve's old cells must be emitting it as a swan song as the new ones took over. This would make things more difficult. The medical team, wearing lead aprons in anticipation of this potentiality, quickly finished their tasks and exited the room, leaving only me and Dr. Kabalevsky.

"Are you prepared to assist?" she asked.

I took a deep steadying breath. "Yes. Just tell me what to do."

But before I could do anything, the steady blip of Steve's heart monitor changed to a flat whine. He'd gone asystolic.

"We need the code cart in here!" Dr. Kabalevsky called out, knowing that there was a whole team listening just outside the room. "Start chest compressions. Now," she commanded, as she moved to attach an oxygen mask to Steve's pallid face.

I started CPR, standing on the chair next to the bed to get better leverage as I pushed down into his barrel of a chest.

"No! No. Stay with me Steve!" I'd only just found him. It was too soon. He couldn't go. I wouldn't let him. "Fight." He was so good at fighting.

A lead-clad technician entered the room, bringing in the crash cart, and then swiftly leaving again. Anna left her place at Steve's airway to pull out parcels and equipment from the cart. With Steve flat-lining, defibrillation would be no help, but she pulled out a syringe of epinephrine, and administered a dose into his IV, calling it out for the transcriber listening in on the other side of the glass.

As she returned to Steve's airway, I glanced at the clock. Two minutes in. I knew that chances of recovery dropped to nil at fifteen minutes of CPR. _Brain death._ We had to fix him by then. We had to. Anna and I had our hands full, doing a full team's worth of work with only two people. It was up to the people outside this room now. It was up to Tony and Dr. Cho. I prayed they were up to it.

I schooled myself into some semblance of calmness. I needed to steady my compressions. With the radiation in the room, there was no one else to spell me out. But I swore I was going to keep pumping as long as there was still hope. I tried to quiet all the alarmed thoughts in my head, and just focused on keeping my rhythm steady, and my compressions the right depth.

A second lead-clad nurse entered the room, handing Dr. Kabalevsky a vial and exiting again. She read it briefly, "Tacrolimus. An immuno-suppressant," out loud, presumably for my benefit.

Dr. Cho's voice came in from the other room "His immune system is fighting back. We think it may be interfering. 4 cc's of Tacrolimus should be enough to calm things down."

Dr. Kabalevsky gave a brief nod and moved to administer the drug. _Is that going to_ _be enough?_ I thought to myself, as I continued CPR.

My hopes perked up as a voice called in on the PA, but it was only the scribe letting Dr. Kabalevsky know it was time for the next dose of epinephrine. _That's eight minutes down. Come on Helen._

As the initial rush of adrenaline started to clear out of my system, an oppressive sense of despair started to sink in. For the first time I started to admit to myself that this might be when I lost him. _We've killed him,_ I thought. _We've killed Ca_ _ptain America._ _We should have done better. I should have been better. This is my fault._

I blinked back the tears that were clouding my vision and focused on my compressions again. I had one job in this: keep steady, keep pumping. Another three minutes passed. Another dose of epinephrine.

Another lead-clad tech brought in an IV bag and handed it to Dr. Kabalevsky. As she hung it, and connected it to Steve's IV, my eye was caught by my own name printed on the bag, along with "PLASMA" in capital letters. I racked my brain for a mechanism that might explain their choice, but came up empty. _They're grasping at straws._ I felt another bit of hope die within my breast.

My skin began to prickle all over, and then I heard Tony come in over the PA, "We're trying alpha radiation."

I didn't hear any triumph in his tone of voice, only the brusque tone that told me he was still in problem-solving mode, but my heart lurched with hope anyway. _Was that it? Have they done enough?_ But time ticked on, and there was no change.

At one point Dr. Kabalevsky asked, "Stop compressions for a second. Let's check his rhythm."

I did so, but it was the same desolate flat line. I picked up where I left off.

A melancholy quiet fell over the room, filled only with the soft whirr of machinery, the swish of Anna's clothing as she moved about the room, re-seating the oxygen line or adjusting the flow on the IV, and my own heavy breathing as I continued compressions, my muscles protesting, my shoulders knotting up with tension at the awkward position. We were running out of things to try. We were running out of time.

Suddenly, Steve gave a huge gasping intake of air, throwing off my hands as his chest arched upward. For just an instant, time froze. And then the cardiac monitor started beeping steadily.

I paused, unsure of what to do next, but then the medical team flowed back into the room, the flurry of activity around Steve blocking him from my view. The radiation must have cleared, and I watched the doctors make a series of minor adjustments to the lines going into Steve, checking the readouts of the various pieces of monitoring equipment. I picked up enough from the medical chatter to gather that the crisis had passed; that he was stable, although still unconscious.

They had things in hand; my role here was over. I was just an extra body in a room full of more qualified professionals. Now that I was no longer needed, my brain started to throw up all the emotions I had shoved down during the crisis. Feeling a freak out coming on, I slipped out of the room, side-stepped the lab commotion just outside, and snuck down a short, quiet hallway.

With that little bit of privacy, all of the panic that I had suppressed came rushing back at me. First the tears started, and then deep, wracking sobs. I knew things were fine, I knew he would be okay now. But, irrationally, my body was going to panic now anyway. I had been so afraid. Afraid he would die. Afraid I would lose him. Afraid it would be my fault. My legs gave way, and I slid my back down the wall and rested my forehead on my knees, and just stopped thinking.

I heard Natasha approaching my spot in the hallway. "Rachael?"

I rose and wiped tears off my cheeks, embarrassed to have lost my composure in front of the stoic Black Widow. But as I turned to her, I saw her own eyes were glistening. _He means so much to so many people. Who am I to monopolise his attention._

"He's awake. He's asking for you," Natasha said gently.

I squared my shoulders. It wouldn't do to fall apart now. Natasha reached out and gave my shoulder a squeeze of reassurance. I smiled back gratefully to her, then headed towards the medical bay.

I re-entered Steve's room. When I left, it had still been a flurry of activity in the aftermath of a medical emergency. Now, it was a quiet space of recovery. I sat down gently in the chair next to the bed.

"Hey," Steve said weakly, turning his head to look at me.

"Hey," I choked out, catching back a sob.

I reached out to clasp his hand in mine, holding it tightly against my cheek. It was warm and dry.

"I thought you said no touching. Not that I'm complaining."

I laughed, which didn't manage to diminish my tears at all, only adding hiccoughs to the mix.

I climbed up in the bed beside him, conforming my body to his side, gingerly resting my elbow across his chest, holding his hand, tucking it tightly under my chin as I rested my head on his shoulder, his other arm wrapped around my back, snugging me in to him.

"I'm so sorry. We let you down. We almost killed you."

"Nonsense, I'm just on the mend. I'm feeling more like myself already."

"You were dead!"

"Nevermind that. I've been dead before and I'll be dead again, but my time's not up yet."

"When I thought I'd lost you… when I thought you were gone…"

"Shhh," he soothed me, reaching up to gently caress my hair, "I'm not going anywhere."

I clung to him. Reassured by his quiet solid presence. I let myself believe in us, in our future together. I heard him let out a happy sigh, as he breathed in the scent of my hair. I was more determined than ever to stick by him forever. To claim him as mine, legally and to the universe, in defiance of anything that it might throw at us. We were stronger together, and I wasn't going to let anything tear us apart. _I love him._


	11. Elucidation

With the crisis resolved and some of the secrecy off, it meant that I could finally let my family in on what had happened, barring the specifics of some of the details, of course. But Steve created a huge change in my life. A new romance and a major life overhaul all in one fell swoop. It was a lot to drop on someone. It had been a lot to experience.

But, I was looking forward to sharing with my family. I was excited about the wedding, and giddy in love, and I couldn't wait for them to meet Steve. But first: breaking the news.

I sent a text first, to arrange a good time to call them on the west coast, and to hint that it might be a longer conversation. First I called my sister, my childhood confidante and best friend. After our general greetings and pleasantries I got down to business.

"I've met someone."

"Someone, like a _special_ someone?"

"Yeah. Yes."

"Well, that's great."

"And it's gotten pretty serious, pretty fast."

"Really? Who's the guy?"

"His name is Steve. He's very sweet, and very kind, and I never thought I'd find someone like him."

"I'm sure he's great, I'd like hear more about him."

"I'd like you to meet him. Maybe sometime next week, if that works for you."

"Wow. Next week? That is fast. How'd you say you guys met again?"

"I didn't say. It was through work, actually."

"Hmmm," she mused, thinking about where I worked nowadays. "Anybody I would know?"

"Well... actually, it's Steve Rogers."

"Shit, Rachael. How'd you bag Captain America?"

I flustered a little at the amazement in her voice. "It's a long story. I'll tell you the whole thing sometime soon. But for some reason he likes me, and we've come to love each other."

"Of course he does. You're awesome and adorable. But man... Captain America. That's the big leagues."

"I am very aware of that. I'm not sure how it's all gonna work, but we'll figure it out."

"I'm sure you will. You've gotta call Mum. She's gonna want to hear it from you."

"That's my next move. Can you free up some time for a visit sometime next week?"

"For you, I'll make time."

"Thanks. Love you."

"Love you, too"

I took a deep breath and then dialled the next number.

"Hi, Mum."

She caught me up on all the family gossip, and how her week was going, and then when the initial flurry of the conversation cooled down, she remembered the text I had sent her.

"But how are things with you? You sounded like you've got some big news."

You eased in to the topic: sharing first about work, and about maybe relocating the lab to the Avengers Facility.

"Good for you, Rachael. I'm so proud of your work. Don't let those capes over-awe you. What you're doing is just as important for the world as the flashy, combat stuff."

"Thanks, Mum, I think I'm holding my own. Actually, I've gotten quite close to one of them… romantically."

"Not Stark?" she asked quickly.

"No, not Tony." I reassured her. Not that Tony was that bad, but I could see how my mother's picture of him, gleaned from tabloid reports of his excesses, and my own occasional rants about his working style when we had just started collaborating, didn't exactly paint the most flattering image.

"Good," she said with relief. "But who, then?"

"It's Steve Rogers."

"Oh," she paused, processing. "So, not one of the scientists." Another pause. "A fighter. He's got quite a history, that one. Are you sure that's what you want?"

"He's not like that. Truly. He's kind and sweet, and the most thoughtful man I've ever met. And he loves me."

"I'm sure he does, dear. But he's an Avenger. That comes with a certain lifestyle. Are you sure you can handle that?"

"We can. Look, you're just going to have to meet him, then you'll understand."

"I trust your judgement., but love can turn the most sober of minds. Just promise me that you'll try to think objectively about all this, and how it's actually going to work. Love is easy at the start, but real life catches up to you quickly."

I paused for a moment, in thought. My mother was a wise person, who usually saw through to the heart of a situation. That was part of why I wanted her to meet Steve so badly.

"I promise."

She seemed relieved, and we continued our chat as I shared more about how we had met, and what I'd come to know of Steve the person, not the public face.

After we had made our goodbyes, and I'd hung up the phone, I thought for a minute about all she'd said. I'd promised I would do my due diligence, and do some research on the matter before jumping in. Inspiration struck and I pulled up my email, knowing exactly who I should talk to about this kind of stuff. I shot off an email to Maria Hill:

 _Do you have the contact details for Jane Foster?_

* * *

A couple of days later I was sitting in my office after-hours, when it was quiet, and almost everyone else had gone home. I took a steadying breath and pulled up the video-conferencing software. A brunette woman appeared on the screen; stacks of papers littered the foreground, along with a large coffee mug.

"Hello? Rachael?" she asked.

"Yes, hello. Thanks for agreeing to speak with me. Did Maria tell you why?"

"Only that it was Avengers related, but not about work. And that she'd consider it a personal favour if I'd agree to talk to you with an open mind."

I made a mental note that I owed Maria one. "I'm sure you've talked more than you want to about your break-up with Thor, but I'm about to start a relationship with an Avenger myself, Steve actually, and I was hoping to get some advice from you about what it was like and if you would do anything differently, or not. It's just that we're both scientists, and they're both Avengers, and I thought that the strains on your relationship are probably going to pop-up in mine, and I just wanted to hear a bit about your experience before things got too far along, so I'd know what to watch out for."

I wound down my run-on sentence as I ran out of air. I hadn't meant to crowd her, but in my aim of not pressuring her into an answer, I think I'd added so many caveats that it was a much longer introductory question than I had intended.

She sighed, and looked at her desk for a moment, then squared her shoulders and looked back up at me. "No, I suppose I don't mind sharing. It's not too painful to talk about, especially for someone who could actually use the information."

"Are you sure? I don't mean to pry."

"No, it's fine. I avoided tabloids for a while, because of the spectacle of it all, but we science ladies need to stick together."

"I appreciate that."

"Ultimately, Thor and I just wanted very different things. It ended somewhat amicably, and I still have positive ties to the Avengers, but what Thor and I had going just wasn't enough for me, in the end."

I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"At the start, we had such a spark. Real chemistry, you know? It didn't hurt that he's built like the god that he is. Plus he had that exotic charisma going for him."

Boy, if that didn't sound familiar.

"I met him when he was at his lowest point, and I was by his side as he really grew through that. I thought we really had something. But then he went off back home and I didn't hear from him for ages. That thing with the Aether," and I watched her shiver slightly in remembrance, "threw us together again for a while, but in the end I finally realized that he meant more to me than I meant to him. I was always going to be playing second fiddle to his destiny. He found a way back to Earth to fight the Chitauri, but didn't have the decency to come and see me in person, shuttling me off somewhere he decided I would be safe, without even letting it be my decision. He did the same thing after the Ultron debacle, heading off to Asgard to investigate his visions. Not only did he not involve me in his decision making, he didn't even let me know he was going. I had to piece together what happened after the fact.

"Eventually I realized that that was the way things were always going to be. His destiny, and his people were always going to come first, and me a distant second. It's not so much that I begrudged him that. He was, after all, destined to be king. But, I realized that, even if he didn't recognize it himself, he was just playing house with me. I thought that we were building a life together, but he was just passing time with me. The good times were very good. But when he was gone, it was like I stopped existing to him."

She paused to take a breath, and calm herself before continuing. "I suppose that in the end, he couldn't help his upbringing. My visit to Asgard taught me that Asgardians are chronically racist. I know it can be hard to confront family, but he didn't fight for me there. I always knew that they lived longer than us, that I would only ever be a short part of his lifespan, but I thought that he would value those years more because they were finite. Ultimately, it just wasn't enough for me. I had to let him go and move on. He was never going to be able to give me what I needed, and I couldn't keep asking him for something that he couldn't do. I still love him, but I can't be with him.

"I don't know if that helps."

"No, it does. Thank you so much for opening up like that. I barely know you, you don't owe me anything."

"Like I said, we science gals have got to stick together. I obviously don't know Steve as well as I know Thor, but I can't really see him being the type to be careless with informing you of his plans."

"No, he doesn't strike me as the fast and loose type, either. But a lot of the stuff you said about destiny always coming before relationship hits some buttons. Steve's told me from his own mouth his history of never backing down from a fight, and doing what he sees as the right thing, and then dealing with the consequences afterwards. If there's something big coming on the horizon, I don't think he'd hesitate in rushing towards it. He has a track record of rushing in to trouble."

"That's true. Although part of where Thor and I broke down was that his loyalties always seemed divided between two worlds. It's not like Steve has commitments to another realm, but when I first met him, he still seemed set in the past. Like he wasn't ready to commit to living in the future, as if he shouldn't get attached."

"I think he's grown beyond that now. When I talk to his teammates, and see how he acts around them, I think he's genuinely invested in them. He treats them like family, and I can see that they trust him completely. I think I can trust him the same way."

Jane nodded, having said her piece. "Good luck. Think hard about what you're getting into. It will not be easy. But, the last thing I'll say to you would be= if I could do it all over again, I still would."

"Thank you, Jane. You have no idea how helpful you have been."

She smiled somberly at me. "Good-night."

"Bye."

As the screen went black I sat in darkness for a moment, thinking it all over. So many of the things that Jane had said hit home. I didn't think Steve had the same kind of pressures in his life as Thor did, tearing him between two realms, but I did think that if it came between choosing me, or saving the world, he wouldn't hesitate. And I wouldn't want it to. But, given the frequency that the world needed saving, that could make for a very lonely life. Could I live alone again, with Steve just dropping in and out? _Yes._ I didn't think I was capable of turning him away, despite that. He'd spoiled me for other men anyway. No one else could ever come close to what he was to me now. I'd rather have a little Steve, than all of someone else.

I closed down my station and rose to head home. I felt at peace. Despite facing some hard truths, I felt more certain of what I was heading towards than ever. I had some things to discuss with Steve, and I could feel that there would be some difficult answers, but it felt more real now. I think I had shaken some of the love haze that my mother had accused me of being under. I knew I was choosing to work towards a life with him with both eyes open.


	12. Preparations

Steve Rogers slipped out of the garage at the Avengers Facility on his one quiet afternoon, and headed for the highway, carefully observing the speed limit, and all other traffic laws, as he always did unless required for the mission. There were faster transportation options to get where he was going, but he liked the clarity of thought that being out on the open road offered. He had a lot to think about. His life had been turned upside-down over the past month. He liked its new configuration, but it was still a lot to process.

He still barely knew his fiancée. He had come to know her as kind and smart, considerate of those around her, conscientious about her role in the world, and anxious to improve it. He supposed he knew her about as well the other G.I.s had when they took their war brides home after the war. When he was in a self-flagellating mood, in his early days out of the ice, he had hung out at the VA, listening to stories of what things had been like after the war ended. Of the elation and chaos at the end. Many of them married their English sweethearts and brought them back home to rebuild the nation. He had almost done the same, he thought to himself, remembering Peggy, their longing glances and lost opportunities. Peggy really had been special. He supposed Rachael was a lot like her: strong and determined, sure of her place in the world and ready to make a difference. He shook his head. He shouldn't think that way. They were their own people. Maybe he did have a type, but they weren't interchangeable. Peggy had been his first love, but Rachael was his future.

He had seen Rachael off at the airport a couple of days previous. She had left for Wakanda early, to handle some of the specifics for the wedding, do some collaboration with some Wakandan scientists, and subtly deliver a pre-treatment to Bucky, to protect his enhanced metabolism from falling prey to the same substance that had started this whole thing for Steve. He hadn't been sure that separating to different continents so close to the wedding would be the best idea, but as the days of their "no touching" rule went on, they had found it harder and harder to keep their hands off each other, so maybe it had been for the best anyway, as tough as it had been to see her go.

They had made the most of their time together. He was shocked at the depth of his own emotion. Once they had both decided that they were committed to being together, things had progressed so quickly. He'd met her family, during a hastily planned visit that Rachael had arranged for them. Steve had been a bit apprehensive about the choice of venue for their first meeting. Rachael had suggesting renting out a bowling alley for their evening of introductions. He hadn't been sure about that, but she'd convinced him in the end and soothed some of his anxieties.

"Bowling's a fun, low-key activity. It'll break the ice, and give everyone something to focus on other than just interrogating each other. I know my family will see your true personality in the way you handle yourself and the way you treat others, just like I did. And just like me they won't be able to help falling in love with you."

He remembered the affectionate smile she had directed towards him, before he had voiced his main anxiety. "Bowling's pretty physical and competitive; I don't want to scare them off." He had considered holding back a little, missing a few pins on purpose, but it had felt disingenuous, and a bad foot to start off on.

"Don't worry, love, nobody's going to be expecting you to bowl anything other than a perfect score. They've seen the news footage, they've seen a bit of what you can do. You're strong, but you don't throw your weight around. And it'll be a gentle introduction to the super-soldier side of you, too."

She understood him so well with just a look. He'd had women infatuated with him since the serum, but none of it felt real. They hadn't really seen _him_. But Rachael was different. With just a look, he felt like she could hear his inner thoughts. Like she heard and understood what he was really feeling. There were a few people in his life who could see through to the core of him. Sam was one of them. Nat was another, now. But not since Peggy had he met someone interested in him that way, who also saw the man under the persona.

She had been right; the bowling party had been the perfect informal introduction. Steve had invited Sam and Rachael had invited Helen, to round out their little gathering.

Introductions had gone okay. Rachael had broken the news ahead of time, so when she introduced him to her mother as her fiancé, he was met with an appraising look, and not surprise. Her sister had taken a breezy approach to the whole thing, and spent half the evening outrageously flirting back and forth with Sam.

They'd all been a little nervous at first, but Rachael was right, bowling had ended up being a good activity to break the ice. He'd enjoyed seeing the friendly rivalry that Rachael and her sister had going on, teasing each other over the scores and crowing over little victories. It was nice seeing a happy family. It reminded him of the Barnes family. Back when his own home had seemed so quiet and subdued, Bucky and his sisters were always happy to welcome him into the chaos of their own household. And now he was being welcomed again into another family unit. It felt good.

Steve's train of thought was broken as he spotted the turn-off for the National Air and Space Museum. He had an appointment with one of the curators from the archives. It had been a few years since they had last met. After he came out of the ice, there had been a rush of interest from historians wanting to hear first-hand of Captain America's experiences during the war. SHIELD had filtered them down to just a few key interviews. He could still remember exactly what Fury had to say on the matter.

"There's plenty of WWII veterans still around. They've had seventy years to ask all the questions they need to from them. They just want you now, because you're still new and shiny, fresh out of the box. But, I've got other plans for you at the moment."

Steve had been secretly relieved. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted to do his part for preserving American cultural heritage, and with his enhanced memory, he did have quite a bit to add. It was just that so much of it had still been so fresh to him. A lot of those memories had been painful... some from rehashing the trauma of war, but even the happy memories were bittersweet, reminders of the future he had lost and could never regain. In the end, he had given three initial interviews, leaving each one emotionally exhausted. He had still made a point to return every few years to the Air and Space Museum. Since the woman he had spoken to there managed the Captain America historical archives, he felt an internal obligation to keep up the relationship, and she had been so very kind and attentive that he didn't really mind it, despite his discomfort at contributing to an exhibit singing his own praises.

"Steve, it's so good to see you again," she greeted him warmly, meeting him at the reception desk.

"Hello Roberta, how are you?"

"Fine, fine," she answered, leading him through the doors behind the desk, and through back corridors to her office.

After general greetings and pleasantries, Roberta got down to business.

"So, how can I help Steve Rogers today?" she asked.

"Well, actually, I was hoping you could pull up a few artifacts from the collection for me..."

* * *

She had led him deep into the behind-the-scenes archives, closely packed and meticulously labelled shelving surrounded them.

"Here they are," she said, handing over a small labelled box.

He took it from her hands, and opened it gingerly. Inside it sat two gold rings, one large one small. His parent's wedding set.

After his father died, his mother had worn his ring around her neck, and her own on her finger. There had been many a time in the 30's when the money had run out and the gold in those rings would have gone a long way to keeping bellies full. But his mother could never bring herself to part with them. When her own time had come, Steve had hung on to them, too. Not so much in anticipation of his own marriage someday - between his health, his stature, and his terminal awkwardness around women, he hadn't held out much hope on that point - but because they were the last two pieces he had of his parents.

When he had gone off to war, he had left them for safekeeping with Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, rather than purchasing a safety deposit box. When he woke up in the 21st century, he had initially assumed they were lost to time, until an itemised list of artifacts had been delivered to him from the Smithsonian. When he had been presumed to have died a war hero, Bucky's parents had donated them, as being one of the few physical mementoes around of Steve Rogers, the person, not the soldier.

"Would it be alright if I took these with me? I could cover their cost, or could I have them on long term loan?" he asked Roberta.

"They're yours." she stated firmly. "We're the ones who were just borrowing them. All I need to do is record their catalogue numbers and mark down that they were returned to you on today's date, and they're in your possession again, free and clear."

"Thank you," he said, relieved.

"You're looking good these days. Life with the Avengers is treating you well?"

He could tell from the way Roberta was looking at him that she had guessed why he wanted these in particular back. There would only be two reasons for him to ask for the rings. He was either so homesick that he wanted to physically hold some connection to his past, or he was in love and planning to use them again for their intended purpose. He wasn't surprised his demeanor had given it away.

"Quite well, actually. In fact, I plan to make a big public announcement soon. We're keeping it quiet for the moment, so your discretion on the subject is greatly appreciated."

"Of course. Of course," she reassured him emphatically. "My lips are sealed. It's been an honour to have known you these last few years. I've seen you adapt to the post-modern era, and I've seen it spit you back out again. I'm glad you've found some happiness."

He didn't know about all that, but he was happy. Happier than he'd been in a long time. Possibly happier than he'd ever been. He couldn't wait to get back to Rachael. Couldn't wait to start their life together. A new start to both their lives. Maybe he'd call her when he got back to the Compound. It wasn't quite the same as being with her, but he missed speaking with her, sharing with her, learning about how she saw the world.

He broke his reverie, realising that he'd gone quiet for a bit too long. Roberta was just waiting for him to come out of it, smiling knowingly.

They made their goodbyes: Steve promising to return for a longer discussion of Hydra tactics during the war, Roberta encouraging him to drop by whenever _he_ wanted to. Then he hopped back on his bike for the ride back to the compound, the rings tucked securely in a zippered inside pocket, right over his heart.


	13. Arrival

As my plane began preparation for landing, I thought about my plans for my time in Wakanda. I was looking forward to seeing my friend Naledi again. We'd originally met in rural Cameroon, doing relief work, helping with local wells that had become contaminated from nearby mining activity. We'd been fast friends, and when we ended up studying at nearby universities for grad school, that had cemented into a lifelong friendship. When Wakanda had started opening up to outside influences, I had been one of the first scientists invited to collaborate at their top learning institution, in part because of my work on heavy metals and ecosystem impacts, and in part because Naledi trusted me, and vouched for me to the committee.

I'd called ahead, and let her know I was coming, and a bit about why. I flew in on a commercial flight, to an airport just outside the barrier, and she insisted on coming to pick me up personally in her lightflyer. When I exited the plane onto the tarmack, the scent of Africa hit me: dry grass baking in the sun, and indigenous pollen, and the minerals in the earth. For a moment, I was awash in memories and nostalgia.

At arrivals, I was greeted with Naledi with a huge hug. I collected my luggage, and she guided me to where she had left her lightfligher ready to take me the rest of the way in to the City. We soared up, passing through the barrier with a shimmer. On the other side, the African plain spread before us, the Wakandan penchant for aerial travel meant it was untouched by highways or other industrial routes, just the soft, organic tracks left by herdsmen or wildlife. I settled in for the short flight. I hadn't spent much time in the capitol, the Golden City. But, since Naledi had set up her lab, having received the royal commission to oversee Wakanda's ecosystem integrity, she had relocated there, and so I was going to set up base there for the visit. I had plans to visit her lab for two weeks, she was going to assist with a particularly tricky remediation question I couldn't answer with the resources and technology available to me in the US, and she was keen for my insight and suggestions on the new program she had implemented across Wakanda. She insisted I stay with her, and I was looking forward to productive days in the lab and fieldwork, followed by evenings together full of fun and gossip.

* * *

The next morning, after a long night in of catching up, I joined her on her way in to work.

"I'll give you the grand tour, and then we'll get you settled in to a bit of lab you can use while you're here. We're a bit tight on space, but we've got plenty of resources, so just let me know if there's anything else you need."

"Thank you, Naledi. You're more than generous. I'd love to see how you've used your space before I start meeting with the architects for my new lab."

"We had some growing pains when we first moved in, but we've pretty much figured out what works and what doesn't now. I'll give you some more specific notes sometime while you're here."

"That would be perfect, thank you."

* * *

After your tour, during which you visited the lush research greenhouses, the immaculate clean-room labs, and the huge garage-like staging area, you would up with Naledi in her central office space. You say office space, but technology ran so different in Wakanda. Rather than rows of monitors showing displays, her workspace centered around a large table, complete with rapidly changing 3D displays of graphs, and landscapes. Since Wakandans grew up almost from birth equipped with kimoyo beads, they were used to interacting kinetically with their technology, as a part of their environment, rather than expecting to have to go to a console to access it.

You were engrossed with an issue of water flow, helping Naledi plan the best way to seamlessly integrate a new border tribe settlement into the existing landscape and ecosystem, when you were interrupted by a loud, tall young woman.

"Look what I brought you Naledi," she said, spilling out an armful of Wakandan tech over the central table, scattering our planning graphs and maps into dissolving motes of brightness.

Naledi picked up one slender rod; it looked like a surveyor's marker, but finely wrought with subtle electronic markings and what were probably highly sophisticated sensors. "Thank you, Shuri. These will be very helpful. We'll put them to use right away."

"Yes, but they don't just do the sensing that you asked me to do. If you activate it like so," and she turned a bead on her wrist, bringing up a user-display, "it sends out sampling tendrils, up to half kilometer long, so you can take mineral samples back to the centre rod, where it'll do an in situ mass spec, and send you back the data."

You were impressed, but not exactly surprised. That sort of data collection would take four people and six different pieces of equipment in America. You were a little envious of Wakandan tech, you'd long ago come to terms with the fact that your own work just happened slower than it did here. Better technology just meant moving on to the next problem question sooner.

"That's wonderful Shuri. You always go above and beyond..." Naledi spoke up again, "When we've caught your interest, that is. I wasn't expecting these for another month. Are you sure you're just dropping these off, or did you really want to check up on your White Wolf's people?"

Shuri gave Naledi a saucy grin, "I can do both."

She turned to me and stuck out her hand, "Hi, I'm Shuri."

I grasped hers, African-style, making sure to support my right arm with my left, and not being surprised when it swung from a standard shake to a combination of hand clasps. This wasn't my first go-round in Wakanda. "I'm Rachael."

Naledi introduced us properly. "Shuri, this is Dr. Rachael Breton. She's an old friend of mine, visiting from Damage Control in America. Rachael, this is Shuri, crown princess of the Golden Tribe, and lead of the Design Group. She's been looking over James Barnes' stay here in Wakanda."

Oh. The White Wolf comments started to make a bit more sense now. "It's an honour to meet you."

"Any friend of Naledi is a friend to me. I hope you are enjoying your time in Wakanda."

"I am. I love it here. Any excuse to come visit." I waved.

Naledi steered to conversation back to technical topics, and I was impressed at how quick to problem solve and how eager to help Shuri was. I was happy that Naledi had someone like that backing her. Although, I thought Tony was bad for teasing his coworkers. Shuri was delightfully bratty in a way that only truly brilliant people could carry off.

After we wrapped up our business, Shuri took her leave of us, and Naledi lead me through the facility to her private office.

"Sorry, I should have warned you. Shuri likes getting a rise out of people. She doesn't have much of a filter."

"No, it's fine. She reminds me a lot of Tony Stark back at Damage Control. It seems that we remediation ecologists are just cursed to be plagued with overly-enthusiastic, snippy engineers, the world over"

"Don't get me wrong, Shuri's an amazing help. Half the things we do for the country wouldn't even be possible without her amazing design work, not to mention her brother's steady financial support."

"My sentiments exactly. Tony's got an engineer's mind and I appreciate it so much that he turns it to the tasks that I ask him to. Plus, the whole new facility thing was his idea, and wouldn't even be possible without him."

"Yup. That's definitely our dynamic to a tee. All I've got to do is get my own super-soldier love interest, and we'll be a matching set."

"Well," I said, eyeing the doorway to the wider facility suggestively, "From what I've seen of Wakanda's elite warriors, you're pretty much spoilt for choice there."

"Ha," she laughed in response, and after a brief interlude of what totally weren't giggles, I basically gave up on any more scientific discourse for the day, and switched to personal topics, like wedding planning details, and your plans to meet up with Bucky later that evening. You were a little nervous to meet your fiancé's best friend, but with all that Steve had told you, you felt like you half knew him already, and from the way Shuri talked about him, he seemed like he was settling in and making friends again, after his time as the Winter Soldier.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** _

_Sorry it's getting a little rambling. I don't know if people are still enjoying this, or if I should start to wrap things up. Any input is appreciated._


	14. Touching Down

Steve grinned as the Quinjet took to the sky. He had managed to get away from the compound about a day earlier than he had originally intended, and had headed straight for Wakanda. He had thought about letting Rachael know, but had been so pleasantly surprised when everything had wrapped up smoother than planned that he decided that he would make it a surprise for her, too.

He was due to meet up with Rachael and her family late the next day, but figured if he left now, he could be there by morning. Nat, who had made the very short-list for the wedding, joined him as well, pleased at the sneaky surprise, and happy to move around her own plans to join in on it.

She's recommended calling ahead to check with Bucky, and he'd gladly joined in on the scheme. Finding out that Rachael and her Wakandan colleague would be out on the savannah, field-testing some new equipment, and figuring out a way to get himself invited along so that he could be in on the fun, too.

Bucky had met his future bride when she had delivered his preventative treatment. As someone who had a derivative or Erskine's serum running through his veins, he was at risk of the same complications as Steve had just been rescued from. They'd exchanged a few words about Steve's new life plans, but he was anxious to have a proper talk with Bucky in person, and hear what his impressions of Rachael were.

It was a quiet flight. Natasha, having stayed up late tying up loose ends before leaving, had retreated to a bunk for the duration. Letting Steve and the autopilot take care of the journey.

Just past dawn, Steve brought the Quinjet through the barrier, and headed towards the coordinates Bucky had relayed to him on where he might find Rachael and her Wakandan hosts that morning.

He spied the little group out on the savannah, a small cluster of figures and equipment, and brought the Quinjet down a safe distance away. He rushed through the post-flight checks, then paced to the back of the jet as the hatch opened. He caught sight of Rachael then, face swivelled towards him, with a big floppy brimmed hat to protect her from the sun.

"Steeve!" her delighted exclamation shot right through him, and lodged in his chest like a butterfly trying to escape.

He knew that he had been missing her, they had been talking regularly over the three weeks they'd been separated, but seeing her face, in the flesh, in person, set a well of emotion bubbling up. He used his height to advantage, taking long strides to close the gap between them. Not fast enough apparently, as she broke out into a light, tripping run towards him. In no time, he had caught her up in his arms, swinging her around to dispel the momentum. She hadn't slowed down, but rather had launched herself at him when she was close enough. He set her feet gently back down on the ground, but she didn't release her grip around his neck.

Naturally aware of the positions of the people around them, he carefully swivelled that ridiculous hat brim to offer them a little privacy to themselves, then kissed her thoroughly, the way she deserved to be kissed: fully and open-mouthed. He could feel her melt beneath his lips, open and inviting, but her arms around his neck only tightened, pulling him closer to him.

Reluctantly, he broke away, while he was still thinking somewhat clearly.

"Hi," he said, pulling back just enough that he could get a proper look at her face, her eyes sparkling with glee, her breath rushed from the brief run and the not, so brief kiss.

"Well," Natasha broke in, "In case we forgot what we're all doing here, that display from you two lovebirds has definitely made it clear."

He felt his face grow hot, but he was too happy to be particularly embarrassed. It struck him that they were ignoring the rest of the party, so he stepped back, moving to stand beside Rachael.

"Hello again, Natasha, nice to see you again. I'm so glad you guys could make it here early," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. She seemed a little distracted by the kiss still (he was pleased to note), but quickly regained her composure, and made the rounds of introductions, finishing with; "and you all know Bucky.

Steve stepped forward to embrace his best friend. He hadn't seen Bucky in person in almost half a year. Strong arms wrapped around each other as the two men exchanged a heartfelt hug.

"It's good to see you, Buck."

"You, too, Punk."

As they pulled back, Bucky addressed himself to Nat, who returned a curt nod.

"Natasha."

"James."

It didn't bother Steve that they seemed to greet each other so coldly. He knew it was just their way. Still, he hoped that this week they'd spend a bit more time together. He knew they had a lot in common, and he knew that Bucky, at least, still felt alone in that.

"So," Rachael spoke, breaking him out of his reverie, "How'd you get away so early? We weren't expecting you till this evening.

"I just couldn't stay away from my girl," he said, leaning down for a quick peck on the lips. "And Buck said that you weren't really busy this morning."

"Did he now?" Naledi interjected. Looking at Bucky in mock disapproval, hand on hip. He shrugged back at her, without any apparent remorse. "He was quite mistaken, but you are most welcome to join in our labours."

And so, they spent the rest of the morning hiking though the African wilderness, laying out Naledi's new sampling equipment, collecting physical samples to validate the reading back in the lab, and generally enjoying the fresh air and sunshine.

And if Steve spent the majority of his time, distractedly watching Rachael listening and going about her work, rather than listening himself or assisting in any concrete way, nobody faulted him for that.


	15. Stag Night

That evening, their party divided in two, with the ladies going off on a girls' night out, Steve heard mention of manicures and mud baths, and he and Bucky headed out for a bite to eat and a catching-up. Steve had invited Natasha to join them, fully aware that she wasn't particularly familiar with Rachael yet, and had just met her sister and mother, and Naledi. But, she had begged off saying "You guys go ahead without me. Besides, you don't get to look this great without a little self-care sometimes."

And so the two groups had gone their separate ways, and though they hadn't specifically planned it, it turned into a bit of a stag night/hen-do. Steve wasn't really that familiar with Wakanda. His visits had been mostly to the palace and not the city itself, and while T'Challa was perfectly hospitable, as he always was to Steve, the king was otherwise occupied tonight, and Steve didn't want to impose on him. So he leaned on Bucky to find a spot for the evening, who was more than happy to show him around the city that had welcomed him when he needed it most.

And so, Steve found himself being led by Bucky through the winding streets of the capital city. He couldn't see that it followed any sort of order, but Bucky and the locals managed to navigate it with ease. Africans seemed to have an aversion to straight roads, and grid-like cities, choosing instead, even in this, the technology-filled Golden City of Wakanda, to let their city grow organically.

They finally stopped at the end of a narrow passageway between two lively looking buildings, apparently having reached their destination. Bucky crossed the threshold of the Shebeen – a local, informal watering hole - and gestured to Steve to follow. The scattered patrons looked up briefly then returned to their drinks, or their table-games. The barman caught Bucky's eye and gave him a nod of greeting, before returning to his task. Apparently, Bucky was a regular here; Wakanda had been open to the world for a few years now, but visitors were infrequent enough that foreigners were still an oddity. He must have come by often enough to have made companions of the regulars. Steve was glad to see his friend settling in to life again. He remembered how hard he had found it to really commit to the future after having come through the war. Bucky's war had been so much longer, and so much bleaker than just WWII, but he'd always been adaptable, been the one who made fast friends with everyone he met and roped Steve into joining in. Hydra hadn't managed to burn that part of him away. As he settled in to the atmosphere and sent Bucky off with his drink order it struck him how similar the vibe was to their old pub back home, way back home, in Brooklyn. The décor and the setting were completely foreign, but the old men sitting at tables, boasting of old conquests, of the health of their herds and the accomplishments of their grandchildren, the youths playing something akin to billiards, whiling away an idle afternoon, and the kindly looking bartender, watching over his patrons with a knowing eye all struck a chord of homesickness in Steve. He could see why Bucky had gravitated here.

They chose a table, and started drinking and talking. Not that either of them expected to be inebriated with their modified metabolisms, but they started with some palm wine anyway, just try the local speciality, before switching to more familiar drinks as they talked.

"I'm so happy for you, Steve," Bucky said, in that mournfully earnest way he had picked up since finding himself again after Hydra. "It makes me glad to see you building a real life."

"Thanks, Buck," he said, clapping his hand over his best friend's shoulder. "I never thought I would find someone like this. And I'm so glad to have you here to share this beginning with me.

"So," Bucky started, "Tell me about the lucky lady."

Steve launched into a monologue on Rachael's history and character. Bucky had heard a lot of it before (when they had talked on the phone, Steve had a hard time going more than a few sentences before bringing her up) but he was keen to humour his friend who was clearly head-over-heels.

"When she suggested coming to Africa for the wedding, I jumped right on it. Not just to see you, but because she's clearly put a lot of her heart into helping the people here. That's one of the things I love about her, she's always seeing ways of improving the world around her. I really feel like I've found a true partner. Her gifts are so different, she and I, but I feel like she understands the drive to step out and do something. I sometimes wonder how much of a difference I'm really making in the world, when all I find myself doing is going from fight to fight. Yet when something happens, I know I'm the one who has to step up and stop it. Erskine taught me that. Still, it's nice to see Rachael work really building things up again and healing things in the aftermath. She makes me feel like a better man. I really love her, Buck."

"That's beautiful, Steve. But don't put yourself down. You're not just a combatant. I've seen those, I understand men like that. You've really built something important with the Avengers. You're earth's defenders. That's got real value. You've always been a protector, it's something to aspire to. People can look up to that. There's nothing in your past to be ashamed of."

And Steve saw by his friend's inward gaze that he was thinking of his own history. He knew that his friend's actions as the Winter Soldier, when he was under Hydra's programming, still weighed on him heavily. Steve hoped he could lighten that load.

"How about you? Any ladies on the horizon? The last date I remember you went on was with that spunky freedom fighter in the French Resistance. I never knew how you managed to find them all. Or maybe they found you?"

Bucky smiled briefly in remembrance, and then shook his head. "Those days are over for me now, I think. I couldn't ask someone to trust me now, with all the things I've done. I barely trust me. I know I've been deprogrammed. Hydra's not hiding in my head anymore, but those memories are all still there. All the things I've done. My behaviour is on me now. I couldn't ask someone to take that on."

"There's people around who understand more than you might think. Everyone's got a history, and especially in this business, they aren't always the cleanest. Natasha's a good listener. You should let her tell you her story."

Bucky nodded noncommittally. _Your own love might be closer than you think,_ Steve thought. Now that he had someone, he wanted everyone he cared for to find the same happiness. He could see now why Dr. Kabalevsky had been so into matchmaking. When you saw two friends who had a chance for real happiness together, you couldn't help but want to encourage them.

Steve had been keeping tabs on his friend, but didn't often get a chance to see him in person. His muscular bulk was unaltered, thanks to the serum, but he'd lost that haunted, strung out look that had been Hydra's legacy, and the bulk that wasn't muscle and bone had filled out nicely, giving him a healthy glow thanks to the African sunshine, and wholesome outdoor exercise.

"I've become a goatherd, you know. The Herder tribe's taken me in, mostly, but all Wakandans keep tabs of their family herd. They're very fond of their traditions that way. It's usually the kids that start off with the goats, but I wasn't allowed to go for the rhinos. That's another level of crazy, right there.

"So I've been spending my days with the kids, wandering the veld with my goats – you get to know them by name pretty quick. The days are unstructured, almost aimless. It's more freedom than I've had in a while. Maybe ever."

"You deserve a little freedom. You've done more than enough fighting for one lifetime."

"There's always another fight," Bucky said, his gaze turning dark for a moment, "but for now I'm happy to shelter here, and find myself again, for as long as that lasts."

He did seem more himself, Steve thought. As they'd spent their evening, he'd been the old Buck, with just the occasional flashes of Winter Soldier breaking through. He really had recovered all his past memories, Steve mused as they rolled on to reminiscing about the good old days, even older days than for the wizened old men at the table next to theirs, doing the same. He was so glad to see his friend reconnecting with who he had been. With the Bucky Barnes that Hydra had taken from him. Steve could tell he was feeling more like himself than he'd seen him since the war. But Steve didn't think he realized yet how much the Winter soldier was him, too. It was the little things, like the way he had blended right in to a society that would have been completely foreign to a 1940's New Yorker, and in a foreign language to boot. Or the new fondness for Vodka he'd picked up since the last time they'd gone drinking together.

He was hopeful about Bucky's progress. He knew his own path to mental health gad come via reconciling his two natures, the skinny kid from Brooklyn and the legendary war hero. It was in embracing that he was both, that he had finally come to fully own his own life again. He was so glad to see Buck finding the Sarge again, that man who went for what he wanted and his place in the world.

Maybe some day he'd be able to reconcile the two halves of himself. Not two natures at war, but rather a whole man, who had gone through some terrible hardships, but had come out the other side stronger for it. It was a future Steve hoped for his long-time friend, with all his heart. It was something he aspired to himself.

His thoughts turned again to what the future might bring him, and the step towards that future he would take the next morning. He couldn't wait to formally commit to Rachael. Over the short time they'd known each other, she'd already brought so much joy to his life. And yet, there had still been a pall of uncertainty over their relationship: an unspoken _What if this doesn't work?_ For his part, he was anxious to ease her doubts. He knew with the same certainty that he knew most things: she was the only one for him.

Steve glanced around the room; the bar had grown quiet as the evening had lengthened. Most of the patrons had gone home, and the barkeep had begun wiping down the bar.

"I suppose we'd better head back. Looks like it's almost closing time," he said.

"That's right. We'd better get you home. You're getting married in the morning. Can't have you sleeping in and missing it," was Bucky's teasing rejoinder.

And so the two men gathered themselves up and headed back out into the darkened streets of the city.


	16. The Big Day

The morning of their wedding dawned, bright and clear. Bucky joined Steve, and they made their way to the venue. Rachael had found a little chapel for the wedding, placed in the grounds of a carefully manicured public garden near the heart of the city. Wakanda had never been reached by missionaries; the old guard of the ruling class had considered it part of the first wave of colonisation, and maybe it had been. But over the years, the Wakandans sent out into the world had caught the spark of Christianity and brought it home with them. And while Bast-worship remained the unofficial state religion, Wakandans valued freedom of religion, and Christianity had become an established minority. The local priest officiating the ceremony for them was a jovial and supportive man. He greeted Steve cheerfully as he and Bucky reached the top of the aisle.

They waited while the rest of their guests arrived. It didn't take long for them to gather. It was an extremely small party: Sam, Nat and Bucky on his side, Rachael's mother, sister and Wakandan best friend, Naldedi on hers. They'd invited a few more local friends for refreshments afterwards, and there was still the big reception back home to look forward to, but they'd kept the ceremony itself extremely small in keeping with the elopement feel.

Soon enough, Rachael's sister entered the chapel, signalling that Rachael was right behind her. With Bucky at his side, he waited nervously at the altar, fidgeting slightly as he waited for a glimpse of his bride. And then she was there: rounding the corner in a full, white gown, the diaphanous tulle of her skirt floating as she glided down the aisle towards him, sylph like. She looked bashful and demure, like he'd never seen her before: all soft curves in wisps of pure white, and beaming shyly but radiantly at him. He had become intimately acquainted with her body, but she had come into his bed a virgin, and he would honour her for that forever. She had shared her body with him the first day they met, and for his part, he had given her his word that very day, and his whole heart by the end of that week. He intended to spend his entire life living up to that promise.

Soon enough, she was sat his side, passing off her bouquet to her sister, and joining him in front of the altar. He clasped his hands in hers marvelling at how soft her skin was in his grip. As the priest have them a moment to grin foolishly at each other, he couldn't help but slide his thumbs across the backs of her wrists, gently caressing her soft, smooth skin. With a nod at them both, the priest started the ceremony.

They had decided on using the traditional wedding ceremony and vows, with some time set aside to say a few brief personal words and promises. Sometime between the 40's and his return to the world, the "promise to obey" part had been dropped. He didn't think it belonged in there anyway.

Steve hadn't prepared his speech ahead of time, preferring to speak off-the-cuff, as he always did. But, for all he was known for his eloquence, when his time came to speak, words failed him, and he didn't know what to say. Despite being a practised motivational speaker, baring his true emotions in public didn't come easily to him. Those speeches had just come to him. He knew what people needed to hear, and simply gave them the words they needed. With that realization, he went forward with the promises he knew Rachael needed to hear from him.

"I see life as a series of choices. The best we can hope for is that at the end we can look back on those pivotal moments, and know we made the right decisions. All my life I've been so sure of what to do; choosing the right thing has always come clearly to me.

"One of those moments was the day I met you. And yet, I had no idea the joy and happiness that decision would bring. You've brought so much joy into my life and each day I find myself more and more in love with you.

"I'm happier now that I ever thought I would be. I love the person who you are, and the person you enable me to be. I know we share an understanding, and hopes, and goals. It's like we're two halves of one whole, reunited.

"I love you, Rachael. And each day I'm learning what that means. Thank you for choosing to take on this old soldier. I'll never take for granted that you've given me your heart, and I swear I will gently carry it with me always. In return, I give you my own heart, to cherish and hold. I know it's in good hands.

"I can promise that I will forever need you. I promise to never leave you. I will love you today and every day going forward. And if the world ever tries to tear us apart, I will forever stay by your side. I will rejoice with you through the best times, and support you through the tough times. I promise to keep choosing you, no matter what comes.

"I can't wait to be your husband, and forever I will tell the world that I choose you."

He had Rachael's hands clasped in his, and had been looking into her eyes as he had made his declaration of love. As he finished, she looked faintly stunned, her eyes sparkling with as yet unshed tears.

"Oh, Steve," she said, and in that short phrase he understood all of what she was trying to convey, _thank you,_ and _I love you_ and _wow_. Her hands were trembling slightly as she reached to her pocket for her notes in preparation for her own words. From her scrunched up face, and broad smile, he knew she was holding back tears. He looked down at their hands as she fumbled with her page; he knew he could keep it together if he didn't look at her face for just a moment. When he looked back up, is was with a calm and steading gaze, and as Rachael picked up his energy, she let out a long breath and began.

"In the moment you first came into my life, it was as Captain America: the national symbol of freedom and fighting for what is right. You rescued me from the mess I had gotten myself into. It was Tony's fault, really." And here those present tittered a little at her wry tone, and she regained a little of her momentum.

"If I had really considered who you were and what you represented, I should have been overawed in your presence, but you were so genuinely kind and attentive, that it was Steve Rogers who shone through and in no time the man overshadowed the Captain in my eyes. It was you, Steve, who I fell in love with. We've only known each other a short time, but I know your gentleness, the care you show for the people around you, and your unthinking selflessness. Trust came first. As I got to know your nature, how could it not? And love followed soon after.

"I'm so proud that you want me as your wife. You've done so much for your country and for the world, and yet you're still human; a man with needs and emotions and personal battles. I hope to be what you need in a partner. I promise to stand by you in thick and thin, to comfort you when you need it, and call you out when that's what you need instead. I give myself to you, my love and my life, to share with you to the end of our days.

"I feel like I have been entrusted with a national treasure. And above all I will strive to be worthy of you."

Rachael_ crumpled up the notes she had been holding in her hand and looked up at him again, eyes shining with emotion. Steve felt his heart swell almost to bursting. He couldn't wait for a life with this woman's love. He broke out into a smile, which was answered instantly by a sunny one from his bride.

The priest continued with the ceremony. Steve listened half-stunned, letting the words wash over him, answering his responses on cue, meaning the vows with all his heart, but Rachael's person occupying the front of his mind, waiting until the final words=

"... you may now kiss the bride." He stepped closer, and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her in for a crushing kiss: closed-lipped and demure for their company, but drawn out and emotional as he couldn't bear to bring his lips away from hers.

The officiant had gone one to make the final pronouncement, but caught up in his own inner thoughts, Steve didn't hear any of it. He grinned at the small crowd as Rachael pulled back and waved joyously. Then they lead the way out of the chapel, hand-in-hand, as husband and wife.


	17. Cake and Punch

I was so happy to be married to my man. To have Steve as my husband. _Husband._ It still felt strange on my tongue, strange but _right_. I couldn't stop beaming, all through the posed wedding photos we took in the gardens after the ceremony.

Every time I looked at Steve, his eyes were on me, on my face, as if he were drinking in my every movement. _How on earth did I inspire such devotion?_ I couldn't believe a man like him loved me like that. Loved _me_ , like _that_. And yet he did.

We drifted towards a small pavillion at the edge of the royal gardens with our guests. Shuri and her bother T'challa, as well as a couple of other Wakandans familiar to the wedding party joined us, though it was still quite a small gathering, so rather than a proper reception – which was being delayed until our return to the States – we planned just light refreshments before we left them for our honeymoon.

I tried to gracefully flop down in the chairs set under the shade for us. In the typical Wakandan heat, I was already regretting the tight bodice and lining layers of my wedding gown. _No, I look damn good. It's worth it,_ I reminded myself. A nearby fountain cooled the air slightly, and the gently babbling soon had me feeling less hot and sticky.

"Those were beautiful vows. Did you write them yourself?" Naledi complimented Steve, once we had all helped ourselves to the light, fruity cake and tart, sparkling punch.

"I just spoke from the heart. I didn't prepare anything ahead of time," he answered.

Naledi's face opened in surprise.

"You get used to it," Sam interjected. "Steve's always got the right words for the occasion."

"Rachael makes it easy," Steve replied, taking my hand in his, and shining a look at me that made my insides melt. I'd marry him again tomorrow if I could.

"Fortunately," Nat said, "we warned Rachael ahead of time, so she had plenty of time to come up with something just as lovely for her vows."

"They _were_ beautiful," Steve agreed, "I'll remember them always."

Conversation flowed naturally among our party. I had briefly been concerned that the presence of a ruling monarch, the dowager queen, and their honour guard might make people a little less easy, but T'challa and his mother were perfectly pleasant, and seemed to have a jovial friendship with Steve, Bucky and Nat. And with Shuri there, there was no way for any level of formality to take hold. My mother and Queen Ramonda even seemed to be striking up a friendship. Mum chaired an economics research institute, and Wakandan queens were far from figureheads, so they happily set to shop talk.

As the afternoon wore on, the conversation drifted to the forthcoming public reception. I was apprehensive about the changes going public would have on the lives of my loved ones, but Sam was reassuring on how quickly people lost interest in little details once the first shock of things wore off. I noticed that same spark between him and my sister that was there when I introduced Steve to my family, although this time, they were mercifully not flirting as shamelessly. Maybe there was something there. Or maybe I was just in the frame of mind to see love wherever I looked. I shrugged happily.

"It's really not as bad as you might think," Natasha said, "The fear of people knowing is worse than the reality. You learn pretty quickly that it only matters what your friends and loved ones think. When I dumped all the SHEILD files on the world, I thought that was the end of my personal life. But, it turned out that it didn't matter to the people I cared about, and the people who cared about it didn't matter.

"We're not such a little family anymore, the Avengers, but we take care of our own."

I worried a little about how dubious my sister looked at this turn of the conversation, but my mother at least looked nonplussed.

I shifted topics instead to Tony's parties, and how memorable the two I had attended had been, and people broke up into little groups to socialise.

Steve and I took the opportunity to slip off to a private room in the pavillion to change. We intended a change of clothing for the trip out of the city for my honeymoon. I didn't want to travel in my wedding gown, and Steve was happy enough to change out of his suit, despite its being linen, and into fewer layers to better fit the African heat. Mum had promised to pack up my dress for me, storing it away, until I decided how long I wanted to keep it. I was intent on the task at hand, stepping out of my heels, and gathering my hair over my shoulder.

"Could I give me a hand with the zipper?"

Steve stepped close to me, "Of course." I could feel the heat of his body at my back, and suddenly I realised we were alone: for the first time as husband and wife.

I let out a soft breath as Steve slowly slid the toggle of my zipper down, the opening freeing my torso from the snug-fitting bodice. With the constriction suddenly released, I realised how tight it had been. I let out a humm of pleasure as Steve slipped his hand through the opening at the back of my gown, warm palm encircling my ribs, fingers smoothing out the red indentations left in my skin. The humm turned to a moan as his other arm wrapped around my body, reaching down my chest and slipping inside the neckline of my dress to press into my breast, fingers caressing lazy circles.

"I've been wanting to do that all day."

"Really?" I asked in mock surprise, "But Steve Rogers is always such a gentleman."

"Don't you know the effect you have on me?" he growled as he pulled me closer, pressing his body into mine, bending his head to nuzzle at the side of my neck. He marked little nibbling kisses from the tender spot just below my ear, down to the tip of my shoulder.

I reached my arm up behind me to run my fingers through his hair, then turned my head to whisper in his ear, "I want some privacy for what I'm going to do to you."

Definitely responding to the tone, but not quite catching my meaning, he ran his hands down the sides of my body, sloughing off the dress, so it dropped from my body into a pile of airy fabric at my feet. Hands on my hips, he spun me around to face him, and I let my body fall into his, knowing he would catch my weight deftly, lifting me up towards his lips, and out of the circle of my dress on the floor.

All I wanted was to slip my hand inside the front of his pants, and take him in my palm. Stroke him until I made him as happy as he had made me, but I held back. I could feel him rising to the occasion as he deepened our kiss, but the opportunity to get him all to myself, to get some time all to ourselves - not stolen moments at the Avengers compound, but to actually live together on our own - was calling me.

"Not yet. Everyone's waiting for us just the other side of that door. I want some privacy, some true privacy, for what I'm going to do to you."

This time realising what I meant, Steve let out a puff of air out the side of his lips, ruffling his bangs, hair-gel softened in the heat. "As you wish," he said, "you're not making it easy, you know," as he adjusted himself from six to midnight, gesturing at my topless form.

"Let's blow this party then," I said as I slipped a loose trapeze dress over my head, deciding to skip the bra in this heat.

Steve put on the gas, and by the time I had found my sandals and slipped them on my feet, he had shucked the last layers of his suit, swapping them for a coarse-woven tunic and pants, and folding them neatly for my mother to collect when she packed up the dress.

"Ready when you are," he said, extending his hand towards me.

And so we exited back towards the party, making our goodbyes quickly, ignoring the sideways glances people exchanged at our obvious haste, and headed out of the city to start our honeymoon.


	18. Their First Morning

Steve Rogers opened his eyes lazily as the late morning light streamed across the large bed, draped in sheer white panels, where he was waking. At first aware only of the knowledge that he had nowhere to be and nothing to do, as the last cobwebs of sleep cleared from the corners of his mind, he recalled why that was the case, and smiled. _A wedding gift from the rest of the team. Three days off the grid._ The Avengers had gotten together and decided that, despite his opinions, they would be perfectly fine to handle whatever crises may come up for a few days, and that he should spend them with his bride. A trill of emotion welled up in his chest at the thought of Rachael, his bride, and now truly his wife. His hand reached across the bedsheets, towards the crumpled space where she had slept, next to him, entwined in his arms. The surface of the sheets were cool; she must have been up for a while. Deciding to find her quickly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and strode to the dresser, where he shrugged on a crisp pair of linen pants. He decided against getting dressed any further, his skin already starting to glow with the humid heat of a Wakandan day. He passed out of the bedroom doorway into the greatroom of the suite set aside for them by T'chala. Another wedding gift. The rooms were tastefully and comfortably appointed. There was clearly quite a bit of artistic taste and money put into the décor and furnishings, but it avoided the gaudy ostentation that some might expect from an African regime. No militaristic dictators, insecure in their power and their place in the world, the Wakandan royal family had nothing to prove by conspicuous spending, and a commitment to stewarding the government's resources well, despite their personal and country's affluence. Not finding Rachael to be present in his survey of the room, he strolled over to the dining table where he had noticed a basket displaying tropical fruit. He selected a red, soft-skinned fruit that he did not recognise and bit into it absently as he walked toward the open doors at the back of the room. They opened onto a private courtyard surrounded by tall cliff faces, bedecked by tropical vegetation. A natural-looking plunge pool filled the centre of the space, with a narrow waterfall cascading off the back wall, splashing off the rocks at the perimeter of the pool. It was there he found her.

She stood at the edge of the pool, water cascading down her body. He noted that she had not felt the need to dress this morning - cloistered as the were in their little suite - as she was enjoying the water fully nude. He took her in, a shining figure in the morning sun, glistening against the wet rock. She lifted and turned her arms, catching the spray of the water as it fell, dispelling the growing African heat. His eyes travelled the length of her body, lingering on the swell of her hips, the round curve of her buttocks, her twist of a waist, and rising to her smooth back, hoping for a glimpse of her naked breasts. He was familiar with the shape of them now, intimately acquainted in fact, but he still got a thrill every time he caught a flash of them. As he watched, Rachael turned in the fall, her face upturned to the water coming from above, her eyes closed. His vision filled with her. She ran her arms up the sides of her torso, raising them to her face, and smoothing her hair in the water flow. She gave a little toss of her head, to clear the last of the tangles, which set her breast shaking with the momentum. Steve felt a flush of heat run through his body, and his pants were abruptly too tight and coarse. Coming back to himself, he felt suddenly voyeuristic, watching her unawares, and yet could not draw his eyes away. He opened his mouth to call out to her and alert her to his presence, but before he could, she opened her eyes, meeting his gaze directly, and winked with a smirk. The little minx had been putting on a show for him! His morning greeting turned into a surprised "Oh" and she did a little wiggle, then folded at the waist and dove gracefully into the water below. Her head bobbed up, treading water as they both started laughing, a mix of amusement and elation.

"Come on in, the water's fine," she called out to him.

"There are lots of fine things this morning," he replied, as he hastily stripped off his trousers, and jumped in the pool with her.

The water was fresh, not chlorinated. There must be some natural spring supplying it, the continual flow of water keeping it cool, despite the sun. He took two masterful strokes and caught up his bride, lifting her slightly out of the water. She bent her head to meet his lips in a kiss, still giggling. Buoyed by the water, she felt light and insubstantial in his arms, like some ethereal water nymph set on seducing him.

"Good morning," he said as their lips parted, "I'm sorry I slept in on you."

"Well I should like to think that I tired you out, a little" was her reply.

"It takes a lot to tire me out, these days"

"I can see that," she purred, trailing her fingers along his biceps as his arms encircled her.

It had been years now since Dr Erskine's serum had stripped away the infirmities of his youth, but he still remembered, and did not take for granted the things his new-found physical power made so easy. He kicked out, leaning backward and drawing her close, onto his chest. He was acutely aware of skin against skin, and the fact that neither of them were wearing swim suits. But, the chill water served to cool his ardor somewhat, and playfulness won out over arousal. Rachael must have been of the same mind, because she shimmied off of his body, and dove down, turning in the water, and bobbing beside him. While his muscle mass, denser than water, made swimming an exercise in keeping his head above water (or holding his breath), her higher percentage bodyfat (nicely deposited in all his favourite places) made her swim manoeuvres appear effortless, merely guiding herself through the water, rather than fighting against it. She glided through the water, circling around him, as he tread water. Behind his back, he felt her wrap her arms around him, resting her chin on his right shoulder and nibbling lightly on his earlobe.

"You really do have a lot of power underneath your suit. The film footage just doesn't do it justice."

He flustered a bit at the praise of something that he felt was somewhat unearned, and yet at the same time, he wanted to show off: really show her what he could do.

"Do you want to see a bit of what we do in the field?" he asked.

She came around in front of him again, looking a little confused, but curious.

"It's just a basic lift. The water's a forgiving safety net, and I'll walk you through it."

As comprehension dawned, a sunny smile broke across her face, causing his stomach to do a little flip as it shone on him.

"Oh yes, I know exactly what you mean. I used to try these as a kid. What fun."

"You're not afraid of high dives, are you?"

"No, I've had decent swim training. And besides, I trust you," she responded while looking into his eyes.

He cupped his hands in front of himself, and directed her to put her weight onto it. As he drove her upward, he compensated slightly for her inexpert balance, still managing to launch her straight, seven feet into the air. Her landing was not quite as graceful as her earlier dive. He caught the glimpse of her surprised face right before she hit the water with a splash.

"You loon," she cried, "you should have warned me!" sweeping her arm to bring a second splash of water across his face.

"I did" he replied, somewhat defensively. But her laughter, and demands of "Again, again!" soothed his anxiety over the subject. They continued to horse around, trying various lifts and launches and gaining height and control. He was impressed at her determination to conquer a skill that was definitely outside of her field, and in which she had had little experience. She was no Avenger, but by the time she claimed fatigue and climbed out to warm up in the sun, she was clearing nearly the same heights Natasha could, and landing with a reasonable degree of grace and control.

He watched with pride as his little wife settled on the warm rock in the sun, then set himself to swimming laps across the length of the pool. He was not yet fatigued, and strengthening his swim stroke was absolutely part of his career. There would be time for more interesting physical exertions later.


End file.
